


Strings Attached

by kalliopeia



Category: Haven - Fandom
Genre: Brief depiction of suicide attempt, Canon-Typical Violence, M/M, Spoilers up to 5A
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-11
Updated: 2015-11-15
Packaged: 2018-04-25 19:32:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 59,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4973404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kalliopeia/pseuds/kalliopeia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A few weeks after the events of 5A, a Troubled man offers Nathan a gift. Audrey is thrown into an alternate reality in which the rules are different. With second chances and increasing danger, she must save the day a lot and make impossible decisions regarding life and death and destiny. Again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Gift and Several Curses

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to the fic! It's the longest thing I've ever published and I am moooooderately insecure about it, so reviews and constructive criticism are always very appreciated. This chapter has some violence and swearing. Onward!
> 
> (Chapter 1 was published on FF.net a few days earlier than here because I was waiting for the invitation, but it's the same content and they'll be updated at the same time).

It worked like Charlotte said, and none of them were really prepared for it.

Actually, it worked better than Charlotte said- Audrey is much more than a drop in the swirl that is now her- but it’s all there. She’s not just Audrey Parker anymore, if indeed she ever truly was. She finally feels like a real person- with parents and a birthday and a history- but it came at a very heavy toll. She’s Mara now. She is the creator of the Troubles.

No one around her can handle it.

Now Nathan is driving them back from the first callout of the morning. This one was easy, fortunately, but there will be more- the Trouble bomb has made their job exhausting as of late. It’s silent, but not the comfortable silence that used to rest gently around them. No, this is a wall of stiffness and discomfort, the sort of wall that Nathan frequently throws between himself and the world but never before used on her. His knuckles are white against the steering wheel, his body language rigid.

Audrey doesn’t blame him.

Oh, he’d claimed it wouldn’t be like this. Swept her into his arms and professed undying love, all of that. But professions of adoration are easy. Abstract concepts like love are easy. Actually dealing with the fact that his girlfriend used to be a monster is probably less so. Audrey can barely tolerate it herself, and she isn’t Troubled. But Nathan is Troubled, is of Haven in a way she has never been. She’s acutely aware that Nathan’s life is miserable, and that every ounce of it can be traced back to her. She can’t do a whole lot about it now. But it’s more than that, really. Nathan sees the world in black and white, right and wrong. He is trying so hard to see her as right. Trying so hard to deny that she and Mara are one and the same. He’s much too close to reality to distort it the way he is trying so desperately to. He clings to her, tells her he loves her with a nearly hysterical force, holds on as tightly as he can- even as their very natures tear them apart.

Audrey has come to sarcastically think of their current situation as the glacial breakup. Eventually, he will be forced to recognize the Mara in her. And he’ll never be able to handle it, not as a lover.

Audrey sighs and realizes that she’s twisting a bit of her hair through her fingers _(Veronica Hidgens, who’d had long and absurdly curly light brown hair)_ and stops.

Nathan slows, jerking her out of her reverie. “Looks like she could use some help.”

It’s a teenager with engine trouble (trouble with a lowercase ‘t’, which should be a relief to Audrey but always seems to bore her instead. This particular flaw belongs to her, to all of them, to Mara, to every piece of her that exists). Despite having been a dozen and a half different people, Audrey knows nothing about cars, so she lets Nathan take it.

Audrey sits in the truck and watches Nathan solve it, much to the smiling appreciation of the driver. He comes back and is fiddling with the radio when another car pulls up beside them.

Nathan rolls down his window and looks over questioningly.

“That was a good thing you did,” says the middle-aged man in the car. “You’re a good person. Is there something you’d like? Some reward?”

Nathan squints. “Uh, it was nothing.”

“No. You will be given a gift. Oh, I know!” the man says decisively, and drives off.

Audrey has a bad feeling about this. “You don’t think he’s-”

She’s cut off when the truck and Nathan vanish, dumping her abruptly onto the road.

Audrey lands hard on her ass, cursing. The Bronco is nowhere to be seen, predictably, and this just stinks of a reality-altering Trouble.

Right, so she’s doing this in reverse. She knows the Troubled person’s face and car already. She can fix this, whatever this is.

Audrey stands, still mumbling curses to herself. She’s in walking distance of the Gull- she can enlist Duke’s help, hopefully. She walks briskly, very grateful to have shoes this time. It’s still called the Grey Gull, which is good news- it’s definitely Duke’s restaurant. She walks nervously inside.

Duke glances over and immediately drops a couple of plates with a crash. “Audrey! Holy shit, you’re here!”

“I- yes. That is true,” Audrey replies. “Hi, Duke.”

“Hi!” he embraces her eagerly, and she hugs back tightly. Tears prick at her eyes- it’s been ages since anyone has touched her without reservation, as if the blemish of Mara rests on her skin instead of in her soul. The Duke she’s grown used to is reserved and on guard around her, glad to have her back but not willing to trust her quite yet. This is Duke as he was before all of this.

This Duke does not know about Mara.

“How did you get here?” he asks.

“Listen, you know how sometimes when there’s a Haven thing, I’m the only one who knows it’s a Haven thing?”

Duke’s face crumples. “They’re not over? I mean, don’t get me wrong, it’s really, really good to see you, but… damn.”

“The Troubles? Why did you think they were over?” Audrey hones in expertly.

Duke sighs. “Aw, they’re really not over. The Barn. Isn’t that what it’s for?” Audrey stops, absorbing this, and Duke adds, “Look, I’m gonna call Nathan. He’ll be really glad to see you.”

Audrey’s first response is to tell him not to- Nathan circa de the Barn loves her without reservation, and it seems wrong somehow to allow him to be that now, knowing what she now knows about herself. She doesn’t say anything. Nathan can help, and if it will be a mix of guilty and excruciating for her, well, it’s so much less than what she deserves. He never has to know about Mara.

“He’s on his way,” Duke says, hanging up. “Audrey! It’s so good to see you! And you remember me and everything! God, it’s been… Has it really been a year?”

Audrey grins back at him. “Okay, I need to know what happened with the Barn in your timeline.”

Duke shrugs. “I don’t think there’s much to tell. I wasn’t there, though. Nathan- he wasn’t okay with you going in there. You know how much he wants to fix this town, but not at that cost. So you told both of us the Barn was somewhere else. It’s okay, by the way- I know why you did it. I know you were helping.”

Audrey wonders if the Barn is the gift- if the man in the car had offered Nathan freedom from his greatest mistake. Too bad her immunity mucked it up.

She grimaces, rubs her forearms _(Mary Drake, who’d had the memories a woman with bad circulation and developed the habit)_ and waits. Duke is still beaming at her as he leads them to a booth and it still aches, a little, the phantom pain of a friendship in danger.

“I’m really grateful for you, Duke,” she says, because right now his first reaction won’t be suspicion.

He grins. “Yeah, me too. Gotta say, having you back… Even if things turn into a disaster movie again, it’ll be great to have you around.”

Audrey sighs, shakes her head. “I know you don’t remember this, but they’ve never stopped, and it’s… it’s bad, Duke, really.”

Duke looks at her. “Audrey. We missed you. It sucks that you had to be the sacrifice. Never sat right with me, even less so with Nathan. Whatever it is, we’ll deal with it, because you shouldn’t have had to do that.” He means this, but it twists something inside her.

Nathan walks in. Audrey’s struck by how he looks- he’s several pounds heavier now; many of the lines in his face are gone; he’s missing a few scars. He smiles easily at her, leaning over to give her a hug before sliding into the booth beside Duke.

“It is really good to see you,” he says, grinning at her.

It’s instantly obvious. His affect is all camaraderie and partnership.

Nathan is not in love with her, infatuated with her, desperate for her- whatever he is in the real world, he’s not here.

The breath goes out of Audrey all at once. Too many emotions hit her at once, too much to deal with right now. What surprises her the most is how incredibly refreshing it is. She needs a friend, a supporter. Things with Nathan are intense, high-stakes. Loving Nathan is like walking a tightrope. This is not that. This is so much more manageable.

Lately she’s felt like a character in a fairy tale, torn between being the Chosen One, the princess or the wicked witch. Here she doesn’t have to be any of that. Here she can just be Audrey.

The thought that maybe this is Nathan’s gift- life free from the burden of loving her- only tempers this relief slightly.

“Hi, Wuornos,” she finally says, beaming at him. “Good to see you.”

“You, too. Work’s been lonely without you,” he says.

“How about some food?” Duke suggests. “It is Taco Tuesday.”

“Pancakes for me,” Nathan asserts.

“Seriously? Wasn’t Lucassi bitching about your blood sugar, like, yesterday?” Duke says.

Audrey snorts quietly into her hand _(Marie Gibb, who struggled to be as ladylike as she was expected to be)_ at Nathan’s returning pout.

“Lucassi isn’t even my doctor, and it’s _borderline_. Gimme pancakes,” Nathan says.

Duke considers this. “Fair enough, but sugar-free syrup.”

“You monster.”

“Ha. We both know you love me.”

“Not voluntarily.”

Duke clutches his heart dramatically. “You wound me! Audrey, you want food? Traveling through alternate realities must make a gal hungry.”

Audrey rolls her eyes at this whole exchange. “I’ll take tacos, thanks.”

Duke nods and whisks off.

“So, how’s it been in Trouble-free Haven?” Audrey asks.

Nathan grins easily. “Good. Lots of cats in trees, drunk fishermen, giving the sex talk to wayward teenagers. The life of a small-town cop. It’s dull, sometimes, but I really don’t miss the adventure.”

Audrey shakes her head. “That sounds hellishly boring, but I’m glad you’re enjoying it.”

“Yeah, I remember the last time I sent you after a bar fight. Normal doesn’t work for you, huh?”

She thinks of Mara again, of the woman she used to be. A woman who’d created destruction and enjoyed it. She thinks of how stifling she finds life without a solid dose of weird.

She wonders if, trapped in a world without intrigue, she would get bored enough to make the same decisions Mara did- the decisions she once made. The thought makes her shudder, but she feels it, the darkness inside of her, the darkness that swelled in Mara until she became a full-blown monster.

“No,” Audrey tells him, because it’s the truth and he deserves it, “No, I’m not.”

Nathan smirks. “Let me know if you get too bored. I’m sure Duke would love to go Scooby-Doo villain and rig up some fake Trouble for you.”

Audrey laughs. “Only if I get to pull off his mask at the end.”

“He’d’ve gotten away with it too if it weren’t for those meddling cops,” Nathan says, deadpan.

“Story of my life,” Duke says, walking in without context, and she and Nathan dissolve into conspiratorial guffaws again as Duke quirks an eyebrow at them and unloads the food.

Nathan takes a bite of pancake and makes a happy noise. “This is sugar-free syrup?”

“Yeah. Got my syrup guy to get me some that’s passable,” Duke says.

Nathan grins. “I’m remembering why I put up with you.”

“Is this the part where I swoon?” Duke asks dryly, and a kicking war ensues.

Audrey rolls her eyes and eats a taco, watching them. They look good. It’s more noticeable in Nathan- how easily he smiles, how all the tense lines in his body are gone. But Duke, too- both of them are clearly doing better than Audrey has ever known them.

She lets out a deep breath and settles into the booth.

Audrey isn’t good with normal. It’s established, by this point. But she isn’t Mara, not anymore. She’s grown past her destructive phase. She can deal with normal, if it means they can keep this.

“I’m not going back,” she says out loud.

They stop kicking and look at her. “What, now?” Duke asks.

Audrey grins at them. “The Trouble that brought me here- I’m not gonna fix it. We’re gonna stay.”

Duke grins. “So we get you back, and no Troubles to boot?”

“Can we really do that? Just stay here, abandon reality?” Nathan asks.

“This is reality,” Audrey asserts.

“I’m with her,” Duke replies, wrapping an arm around Nathan’s shoulders. “Nate, this is real. Okay?”

“It was caused by a Trouble. She remembers other things,” Nathan replies. His brows crease. “She remembers reality, because she’s immune.”

“I don’t care if it was caused by a Trouble. All sorts of things were caused by Troubles,” Duke argues. “I like it here. We have Audrey back, we don’t have to fight giant raccoons. It’s good.”

“Duke’s right,” Audrey says. She rests her hand on Nathan’s, nervously, but he doesn’t react except to look at her. “I remember something different, which is how I know that we’re better here. All of us. You probably feel more real here than there. Nathan, you trust me, right?”

Nathan nods. “I do, but... Can you really do that? Abandon the Haven you know?”

“It’s not even hard,” Audrey promises. It might be hard, later. To watch Nathan and remember how he loved her, remember how they were together, knowing both that she can never have that here and that it will never really work anywhere. But now, him treating her as a partner to be counted on is a breath of fresh air.

“How long ago did the split happen? How far back do we have the same memories?” Nathan asks.

Audrey bites her lip _(Lucy Ripley, who’d had a penchant for flavored lip gloss)_. If she’s right, the gift Nathan received from the man on the road is that he has never loved her as more than a friend. She’s not sure when, exactly… maybe the first time she touched him.

“Not sure. We can probably trace it back, though. Did you ever have a fling with Jess Minion?” Audrey asks.

Nathan’s face scrunches. “The… non-witch who likes to graffiti other people’s property?”

Audrey laughs. “One and the same. I take it you did not.”

They’re still chuckling when the radio on Nathan’s hip buzzes. “Nathan, hon. I just got a report…”

“What is it, Laverne?” Nathan replies, immediately businesslike.

“Giant lobsters over at Mitchell’s,” Laverne says.

“Define ‘giant.’”

“He said the biggest is about fourteen feet. Nathan, we’re not supposed to be getting these kinds of calls anymore.”

“Giant lobsters,” Duke repeats. “If I help, can I keep, cook, and serve the corpses?”

“Sure,” Nathan says, dazed. “Okay, Laverne, we’ll be right there.” He turns off the radio and looks woefully at Duke. “They’re back.”

“We had giant lobsters last week,” Audrey says. “Mitchell’s daughter is doing it. She’s six. Tantrum.”

They both stare at her.

“Oh, and the lobsters just shrink back to regular size. You stay- I can handle it. Oh, can I borrow your truck?” Audrey asks.

“No. Might as well get back in the swing with an easy case. C’mon,” Nathan says. His face is set, ready for action. They set off for the door.

Duke sighs. “Nora! Man the restaurant!” and scurries after them.

* * *

 

“I don’t understand,” Mitchell says once the lobsters are no longer looming and terrifying. “No one in my family has ever been Troubled. And my wife is from Vietnam; it can’t be her side…”

“It’s new,” Audrey explains heavily.

“What? No, my best friend is Troubled- they always run in families.”

“Not anymore,” Audrey says. “Mitchell, your kid is Troubled. You need to accept that.”

Nathan and Duke are staring at her, confused as to how such a thing could occur. Frankly, Audrey is too- this Trouble was one of the ones that went off shortly after Duke let off the bomb. But that didn’t happen in this timeline- it couldn’t have.

Audrey is not immune to those Troubles, because they came from Duke. Apparently, those Troubles are also resilient against the influence of other Troubles. They broke through the change in reality.

As they walk away from Mitchell and his shell-shocked kindergartener, Audrey delivers a very abbreviated version of her conclusion.

“A Trouble bomb? How does that even happen?” Duke demands.

There are no forces, supernatural or otherwise, that will ever get her to tell him the truth on that particular matter. Audrey replies, “Long story. It happened.”

“How many Troubles? How bad?” Nathan asks worriedly.

“Lots; bad,” Audrey sums up grimly.

“Jesus,” Duke says. “And here I was worrying about mine coming back.” Nathan puts a hand on his arm.

“We can deal with this. I guess we should call the B-Team,” Nathan says.

“I have no idea where Dwight is,” Duke says. “Hopefully he still takes our calls.”

Nathan laughs. “He’s not gonna be happy.”

“Well, he likes you better, so you call him. I’ll get Claire.”

Audrey twitches. “Claire? Claire Callahan?”

Duke raises an eyebrow. “Have we been working with other Claires in your Haven?”

“Did we lose her?” Nathan asks, quietly, reading something in her face.

Audrey nods, shortly. “Yes. And I’m trying to figure out why you didn’t.”

“How’d she die?”

“Arla Co… Ah, right. Okay. Never mind, I’ve got it,” Audrey realizes. In this universe, Nathan never slept with Sarah, James Cogan does not exist, and Arla Cogan presumably does exist but is not their problem. Claire is alive, as are the Bolt Gun Killer’s other victims.

Duke lets out a shaky breath. “Claire. Damn, that sucks. Do we tell her?”

“No. We’re not going back, remember?” Audrey says forcefully. “She’s alive.” A smile spreads across Audrey’s face as she remembers her friend. “She’s fine. Call her!”

They dial and Audrey grins, delighted. They can do this. This is still okay. She feels the urge to dance around _(Lilly Drew, ballerina)_ but doesn’t. The solution was a random Trouble giving Nathan some unknown gift. She doesn’t know whether it’s dumb luck or whether it makes sense that the solution would be a Trouble.

Nathan hangs up first. “He’s not thrilled. And he’s in Taiwan, so it might be a day or so,” he informs them. “Dwight’s not dead in your timeline, is he?”

“Nah, he’s fine. Alive and well and banging my mom,” Audrey reports with an eye roll. Duke’s eyebrows shoot up. “Also, it doesn’t matter what happened in my timeline. Your timeline is vastly superior.”

“Your timeline is real,” Nathan murmurs.

“Thanks, Claire. You have a mom? You’ve been an adult since 1955, at least! How old is this woman? Does Dwight have a geriatric fetish?” Duke demands.

Audrey ignores Duke. “This timeline is real too. What, just because there was the intervention of a Trouble? Believe me, there’s plenty of impossible shit happening in mine too.”

“I don’t feel like we can really do this,” Nathan murmurs. “Just leave the real world for one concocted by a Trouble.”

“We can. We will. Trust me, it’s better here. You’re better here,” Audrey tells him, squeezing his arm. “Both worlds are real. This is real. Your memories, they’re real. Even if I remember something different.”

Nathan doesn’t look convinced, but any further argument is interrupted by his radio.

“Nathan, doll, the candy at Ye Olde Haven Sweet Shoppe is attacking people.”

“Can I keep and eat _this_ Trouble?” Duke questions.

Nathan grabs the radio. “On it, Laverne.”

* * *

 

The candy is under control, but the Troubled teenage employee is sobbing when Claire shows up.

Audrey, relieved, frantically waves her over. Her social skills have improved vastly since she came to Haven- she knows most of the cops’ names now!- but crying teenagers are not her favorite.

Claire smoothly takes over, all grace and saying the right things. Mike- the Troubled kid- is quieting in half the time Audrey had been trying with him. Damn, Audrey’s missed her.

“Nicely done,” Audrey murmurs, smiling. “God, it’s good to see you!”

“You too,” Claire says, smiling brightly. “And I’ve got to say, as long as it sticks to violent lollipops, I think I can deal with this. I was doing marriage counseling, Audrey. Marriage counseling.”

“A waste of talent,” Audrey agrees. “The guy this morning seemed pretty distraught. His six-year-old threw a tantrum and turned nearby lobster into the size of horses.”

“So lobster special at the Gull later?”

“Sadly, we just shrank them,” Audrey replies. “Though that was Duke’s first thought too. How are they? Duke and Nathan?”

“Good. You know them; bad habit of having dumb proxy arguments when they’re having an unrelated issue. I have been known to assist in communication. Unsolicited. I know I said I hate marriage counseling, but they’re a special case… Please never tell them I said that,” Claire says cheerfully.

Audrey’s nearly doubled over laughing by the end. “Aww. Yeah, I’ll never say a word.”

“Thanks. They’re good though, really. Had a difficult time with you leaving. They both hated it. I hated it too, but I got it. They... Well, Nathan’s a moral absolutist. Believes that the right thing should be done even when it sucks. He compared your situation with the Barn to human sacrifice- wrong, even if it was necessary. Wrong that you were put in that situation. And Duke, well, he’s much more morally flexible, but he doesn’t like to see his friends in a no-win situation either.”

“And you?” Audrey asks.

“I was busy dealing with them,” Claire jokes. Then she smiles, wraps an arm around Audrey’s waist. “I understood why you did it. They did too, but they were too caught up in the unfairness of it all… I visited patient after patient, told them all that it was gonna be all right. That you’d saved them. That their private hell was over because you made a tough sacrifice. The situation was terrible, but what you did with it was incredible.”

“Even if it did land you in marriage counseling.”

“Ugh. Welcome back.”

* * *

 

Things get worse.

Audrey and Claire are still chatting amicably in a wrecked candy shop when Nathan walks over and reports that they’ve just been dispatched to an ‘alarming situation’ at the moose farm. Furthermore, two other cops have been put on unusual Haven-type calls in the past hour.

“Stan and Rebecca know how to handle things. They’ll be fine, as long as it’s not too bad,” Nathan says. “But it’s growing.”

“We’ll figure it out,” Audrey says. “To the moose farm.”

The moose farm situation, Audrey has to agree, is somewhat off-putting.

“Did your grandmother pick out those shoes?” a particularly large one nearby asks her mockingly. Nearby, a baby moose is calling an amused Nathan a dumbass and Duke’s hair is being criticized by an entire half-circle of them.

“I understand, sir, but we don’t want this to be a tourist attraction,” Claire is arguing with the owner. “Your moose will end up confiscated by scientists. Haven will be found out.”

“But it’ll be good for business! The Magnificent Mean Moose!” the farmer exclaims. Audrey can just see the capitalization.

“Sir, make your moose shut up or I will arrest you,” Nathan interrupts.

“Ooh, tough guy!” the baby moose jeers at him.

“The calf has learned sarcasm. We need to end this,” Audrey asserts. She steps menacingly toward the farmer, accidentally landing one of her grandma shoes in a moose pie.

“They’re better this way! Y’know how hard it is to bring repeat tourism to a moose farm? Usually they just eat and shit!”

“You aren’t much better, and we aren’t drunks!” contributes one of the moose previously engaged in mocking Duke’s hair.

Nathan’s phone rings. “What, Laverne? Not yet. Yes. Sure. Okay. Be right there.” He hangs up and turns toward Audrey. “Claire and Duke have got this, right? I think Claire and Duke have got this. Let’s go!”

“What? You can’t leave us here!” Duke insists.

“Sure can. Call me when the moose shut up,” Nathan says, grabbing Audrey and steering her toward the gates.

“You are a blessing,” Audrey mutters. “Where are we going?”

“Town center. Rose from the Art Center just lit herself on fire. She’ll live, but there are a lot of panicked people.”

“Shit,” Audrey replies. “Well, hopefully it’s just her Trouble and it won’t spread. The hospital will still have her sedated, so we can deal with preventing a repeat later…”

“That’s what I was thinking,” Nathan agrees. “Let’s just deal with the panic before it causes actual activations.” He starts the truck.

Audrey hadn’t considered that aspect. All the old Troubles have been dormant in this timeline since the Barn, but presumably a traumatic event can activate all those too. And with a whole host of new Troubles manifesting out of nowhere in a previous time of peace, there will be plenty of those.

* * *

 

Nathan’s talking to a particularly hysterical older fellow with two prosthetic arms. There’s no crowd, but there are several people hiding in corners, in shadows, whispering frantically to one another or just staring at the burn marks on the concrete.

“Oh, god, you’re back. You can’t be back, not yet,” says a familiar voice.

Audrey turns. “Jordan!”

Jordan actually looks pretty good, despite the horror. Her face has a healthier color than the sallowness Audrey had come to expect. Her outfit involves some color. Her bare hands hang at her sides. She has a manicure- it’s a surprisingly girly and elaborate one, with multiple colors and rhinestones.

“You were supposed to go. And stop all of this,” Jordan cries, outraged. “I was supposed to get twenty-seven years. I was supposed to be normal again!”

“Jordan, it’s gonna be okay,” Audrey says, trying to be soothing.

She should have known better. Jordan’s a soldier at heart. She straightens and glowers.

“Don’t tell me it’s gonna be okay,” Jordan spits. “You have no idea what it’s like to be like me.”

“Troubles like yours require some kind of traumatic event to activate,” Audrey replies, her voice returning to normal. “As long as you’re able to keep away from stressors, you should be okay. Whatever situation triggered it last time? Try to avoid similar ones.”

Jordan looks a bit reassured and also a bit like she’s just been slapped. “Fuck you. You were supposed to fix this,” she snaps. A man moves past her, too close, and she abruptly slides her hands under her armpits. “If the Barn comes back, you’re going in it. No matter what I have to do.”

“It’s not coming back,” Audrey replies heavily. Jordan, still glaring, walks away.

“Uh, do we know her? She looks sort of familiar,” Nathan says from behind her.

Audrey turns, squinting at him. She grabs his left arm and pushes the sleeve up past his elbow. It’s bare. She nods decisively and drops his arm.

“Did you just check me for track marks?” Nathan asks confusedly. “I know my coffee addiction is pretty serious, but I haven’t graduated to mainlining it yet.”

“I was looking for a tattoo. That’s how you know her, in my timeline,” Audrey tells him.

“Oh. Is she helpful, there?”

Audrey, who believes strongly in giving credit where credit is due, replies, “Yeah, sometimes. Sorta unpredictable, though.”

Nathan nods thoughtfully. “Well, let me know if you want to get her in on helping with these. If we’re having several at a time…”

Audrey lets out a huff of breath. “I will let you know.” Frankly, she figures this to be an unlikely event- she doesn’t want to deal with Jordan, and she figures that Jordan deserves better than to have to deal with them again.

Nathan checks his phone. “Duke and Claire fixed the situation with the moose and promptly got dispatched by Laverne to deal with a ‘very angsty winged elderly man.’ I think Laverne deputized them.”

“Oh, yeah. Jimmy Rue and his bat wings,” Audrey muses, remembering dealing with him earlier in her timeline. “Tell them to have him call his granddaughter. She’s in flight school and he’s worried about her.”

Nathan calls and relays this information. “They thank you.”

Audrey hums in response. “So, I’m thinking we should set up a perimeter. Everyone here seems calm enough, but any panic could set off more Troubles.”

“Okay. Are you going to keep telling people that traumatic activations are still usually required?” Nathan asks. “Because if it were me, I’d get out of Haven.”

“Point. A mass exodus of Troubled people waiting to blow… It could expose us,” Audrey says worriedly. She’d told Jordan the truth, and Jordan might tell the Guard, but Audrey decides she’s fine with that. Jordan deserves a chance. “And what do you mean, ‘if it were-‘”

She is cut off from this by someone screaming. “Give me the money or I’ll kill her!” a masked man screams, pulling a terrified (and, oddly, male) hostage down the street. “I have a bomb! This whole place is wired to explode!” His accent is a bad imitation of something vaguely European.

He doesn’t follow this up with any further threats, so he apparently just wants them to know. Audrey sighs and pulls her gun and badge. Nathan, beside her, does the same.

“Haven PD! Let her go!” Audrey yells.

The man doesn’t even glance at them.

“Stop what you’re doing, Dr. Von Bauver!” a nearby man yells, running into action. His hands are braced on his skinny hips and his face is so pimpled it appears to be boiling, but there’s confidence in his posture.

“James Drake! So we meet again,” the villain sneers. “You will never defeat me.”

“Your plans will never succeed. The police have been notified. They know where you put the money, Von Bauver.”

“Ha! A decoy. It will be moved by my Mistress Debra Delight before sundown. That’s right, James, Debra was working for me the whole time!”

Nathan leans over toward Audrey. “You take the hero, I’ll take the villain?”

“Nah, we both go for the hero. He’s the Troubled one. Everyone thinks of themselves as the hero,” Audrey says. The words burn coming out, but she doesn’t have time for philosophical Mara musings right now.

“Villain has a gun,” Nathan points out.

“He won’t use it. Would go against the plot,” Audrey says.

“Point. Oh, hey, I think she might be involved.”

“Who?”

“Her. The tattoo artist, or whatever.”

And Audrey spots it. Jordan, with the bottom third of her shirt tucked away, is creeping sexily toward them from a nearby alley.

Audrey groans. “Change of plans. You grab her, prevent her from advancing. I’ll take out the Troubled hero.” Nathan nods and darts off. Audrey sighs and runs toward ‘James,’ blocking his view.

“Listen, I know you want to be the hero, but this isn’t the way. You can’t create terrible situations just so you can fix them,” Audrey begins.

He looks at her, panicked. “Go away! You’re not part of the story!”

“Come on. Let them go, and I can talk to you about being a real hero.”

“I’ll never be a real hero! I’m just this dorky kid with pimples who isn’t ever gonna be the hero. I just wanna do that, just once. I wanna save the day and get the girl. No one’s gonna get hurt,” he whines.

“Yes, they will! Listen to me. You mentioned getting the girl. It’s Debra Delight, right? She’s your character’s love interest? Well, you put her in the body of a real woman, a woman named Jordan McKee. And I know Jordan- if you touch her, do anything to her, and she finds out you used your Trouble to do that? If she knows you used your Trouble to whammy her for your own nefarious purposes? She will… well, shoot you repeatedly. And probably worse.”

He looks over, conflicted, at the alley where Nathan is holding Jordan back by both arms. She’s struggling, but seems unable to turn and look at him because he’s not in the scene.

“She’s not your friend right now. She’s Debra,” he says vehemently.

“She might think that, and she might act like that, but underneath she’s the same person she’s always been. Nothing, supernatural or otherwise, can make that go away,” Audrey says.

He straightens. “I have the power to control people. Turn them into characters,” he hisses. “I wasn’t gonna hurt her, or anyone else, but if you don’t get out of my way I will turn you into a character and get you killed!”

“James Drake! You think you can take everything from me? Well, watch me take everything from you!”

Audrey frowns and turns, primarily because the voice is a pretty good German accent. She turns to see that Duke has taken the place of Dr. Von Bauver, and is holding a visibly annoyed Rebecca Rafferty as a hostage. Claire, nearby, is talking to the original villain and hostage, bringing them out of the trance. Stan is setting up a perimeter.

“Ha! I have already taken everything from you,” the Troubled faux-hero shouts. “Debra will never move the money. She’s on my side now.”

“You fool. Of course you think that!” Duke cries. “I told her to trick you, earn your trust… She turned you on, and now she’s going to _turn on you_!!”

‘James’ looks a little annoyed that his villain is saying action-movie catchphrases instead of him.

“No, no,” he says, frowning. “That isn’t how it goes. Get it right.”

“Get it right?!” The former hostage is standing now, and furious. Claire is frantically trying to silence him, but it’s clear he’s beyond listening. “I’m not a character, and I don’t deserve to have a gun to my head! Also, I am not a girl!”

“Shut up. There wasn’t a convenient actor. The new one’s better,” the fake hero muses. “Blonde and everything.” Rebecca looks even more annoyed at this sentiment.

“Actor? We weren’t acting! You’re the one who’s acting, you maniac! Come on, we all know you’re not a real hero!” the kid exclaims.

The Troubled man, outraged, reaches for his waistband.

“Gun!” Audrey hollers.

Rebecca jumps out of Duke’s grip and tackles the former fake hostage around the knees, covering him.

The man draws.

Claire dives behind a garbage can.

Audrey grabs at the gun.

The man twists away, pulling the gun out of her grasp but pointing it well clear of the former hostage.

He’s pointing it right at where Nathan and Jordan are struggling in the alley.

Audrey tries to cry out a warning.

She’s drowned out by the gunshot.

Nathan yells and collapses.

Audrey runs toward him, forgetting the rest in her urgency to get to her partner. “Nathan!”

Duke is right behind her. “Nate! Nate, baby, c’mon!”

Nathan, on the ground, groans. “Ow. It’s just a graze. I’ve had worse.”

“Jesus, don’t do that again!” Duke orders, grabbing at Nathan’s hand.

“What, get shot?”

“Yes!” Duke insists.

Claire’s there, checking the bloody line just below Nathan’s hip. “It’s relatively shallow,” she says. “You got lucky.”

Audrey, calming down, catches up to the situation and spins.

Jordan has reached the Troubled man and has her hands curled in his shirt. “Oh, James. Dr. Von Bauver was lying. He knew he’d lost. He knew I want you too much to betray you.”

“Oh, shit,” Claire says.

But his face is conflicted. Jordan’s leaning up, fluttering her eyelashes, clearly trying to get a kiss- but he has several inches on her, and he’s not leaning down.

Finally, he lets out a sigh. “Bye, Debra.” The illusion drops.

Jordan jerks back. “What the- oh, you sick, slimy, son of a-” She elects not to finish that curse and, instead, kick him in the dick. He crumples.

Audrey approaches him. “What’s your name?” she asks him.

He looks up from the ground, pitifully. “Edwin Dunabita,” he whimpers. “She kicked me!”

“I warned you,” Audrey says unsympathetically. “Don’t do this again.”

Edwin groans. “Okay.”

Audrey rejoins the group. Nathan is sitting with his back to the wall, while Claire fusses over his leg. Duke hasn’t moved.

“Someone needs to give him a talk about consent,” Audrey grumbles. “That there is a date rapist in the making.”

“Agreed,” Jordan says. Audrey wonders if Jordan has ever publically agreed with her before.

“I’ll take care of it as soon as he’s off the ground,” Stan offers cheerfully.

Jordan snorts and looks at Nathan. “You’re the one who… stopped me, right? From getting in the scene?” Nathan nods. Jordan smiles, tight-lipped. “Thanks.”

“No problem,” Nathan says.

“Uh, do you need a ride to the hospital or anything?” Jordan offers.

“No need!” Duke says. “I already called an aid car.”

Nathan frowns at him. “I’m fine. Claire, you went to med school. Tell him I’m fine.”

“Duke cares about you, and you just got shot. His concern is entirely warranted, by your relationship if not the actual injury,” Claire lectures.

“Ugh, shrinks,” Nathan says.

Claire gives in. “The wound should be cleaned and he could do with some stitches, but this isn’t a problematic injury.” She redirects without preamble. “Jordan.”

“Don’t even start with me, doc,” Jordan grumbles. “That was a _completely_ appropriate expression of anger.”

“Oh, yes,” Claire agrees. “And good form besides. But you should think about letting your rage go- not for their sake, but for yours.”

“Fuck right off,” Jordan replies, and stomps away.

“Right,” Claire sighs as the aid car pulls up. “I’m gonna go talk to Jack- the kid Edwin used as a hostage.”

The paramedic hops out and the necessary explanations are given. Soon Nathan is in the back with his jeans yanked to his knees while a paramedic pours antiseptic on the wound.

“Agh. This is actually worse than the getting shot,” Nathan says, wincing.

“Ha. Miss it yet?” Audrey asks jokingly.

“Miss what?” Nathan asks, apparently still distracted by the stinging.

“The numbness.”

Any levity drains out of his face as he slowly looks at her, deadly serious. “Who told you about that?” he growls furiously.

Audrey retreats a little, eyes widening at his tone. “You did,” she tells him. “In my timeline.”

“Why? It doesn’t matter. It was a medical condition, when I was a kid. It’s gone. It doesn’t matter,” Nathan hisses.

“It never came back?” Audrey demands.

“No!”

Audrey sits back, nodding to herself as she remembers how Nathan was when she met him- desperately clinging to science and reason, denying the Troubles despite what he saw, and calling his condition idiopathic neuropathy.

The paramedic, looking sort of uncomfortable, is sewing Nathan’s leg closed very quickly.

“Well, hopefully it still won’t, but just so you know, you’re Troubled,” Audrey tells him.

Nathan stubbornly shakes his head. “No. I’m not. It’s just a medical condition.”

Audrey raises an eyebrow. “Nathan. Trust me; we’ve established this.”

“No. With the exception of the Trouble bomb, which is recent, all Troubles run in families. Both of my parents had other Troubles. If I was Troubled, it would be one of those. That had to be something else,” Nathan replies stubbornly.

“Ah, by the way,” Duke cuts in, “if you suggest that there might be a numb mailman out there somewhere, he might hit you. Just, FYI.”

Audrey lets out a long breath and makes a face toward the corner of the aid car. “This is weird. Nathan, you’re adopted. We discovered this. There was a whole thing. Your biological father is named Max Hansen. He’s numb too. Don’t chase him down for any reunions, though- he’s terrible.”

Visibly, Duke reacts more to this news than Nathan, pulling back out of surprise before leaning in around Nathan, pulling closer to him. Nathan just stares at her.

“Max Hansen. The guy who murdered that family,” Nathan finally says flatly. “He’s my father.”

Audrey sighs and nods. “Yeah.”

“And the Chief never said anything?” There’s a note of resignation to this question that makes Audrey certain that, despite the change in timeline, the Chief didn’t make it.

“He never found the right time,” Audrey says gently. “He loved you, Nathan.”

“I know,” Nathan says. He grimaces and looks up at Duke. “You gonna be all right with this?”

Duke pauses for a moment. “If it weren’t for my Trouble, I wouldn’t care. Nate…”

Nathan huffs and leans against him. “Let’s hope we don’t activate, then.”

“We’ll be careful,” Duke whispers. “It’s okay. Do not get shot again.”

Nathan snorts. “Nothing happened this time. A row of stitches, is all. I can probably go now. Where’d the paramedic go?”

“Outside, casually surveying the surroundings while we have deep meaningful conversations,” Duke replies promptly. “Nate, you okay?”

“Fine,” Nathan growls. “Let’s go.”

“We do still have to deal with Rose,” Audrey points out. “Hopefully it’s her Trouble and it won’t happen to other people.”

“An immolation Trouble. That would be unfortunate,” Duke says grimly. “Hopefully you can talk her out of trying again.”

“I’ll do it,” Claire says, leaning around the door. “You three go get dinner. I’ll talk to her and send you in if I have any difficulty.”

Duke squints at her. “How long have you been here?”

“Just got here. Started walking back over when the body language got relaxed again,” Claire replies cheerily. “Do you wanna talk about it, whatever it is?” She is looking at Nathan, because she is good at her job.

“No,” Nathan replies coolly. “Thanks for agreeing to talk to Rose.”

“Sure,” Claire says. “I’ll let you know.” She hesitates for a moment. “My schedule can be rearranged whenever, if you want.”

“Noted,” Nathan says through gritted teeth.

Claire, looking fondly exasperated, pats him on the shoulder and leaves.

“So. To the Gull?” Duke suggests.


	2. A Love Story, a Tragedy, and Dinosaurs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains a brief depiction of a suicide attempt. If you want more information about the nature of this scene before reading, or if you’d like me to send you a copy of this chapter without that scene, just let me know and I’d be happy to do so.

Nathan is, once again, eating pancakes. This time he gets sugared syrup and Duke doesn’t say a word about any of it. Apparently facing down giant lobsters, being insulted by a moose, getting shot while facing off against a mad hero, and then learning about one’s adopted and Troubled status while lying in an aid car excuses excess sugar consumption.

“So you know about some of the Trouble-bomb Troubles,” Nathan says between mouthfuls. “Anything we should get ahead of before it causes a problem?”

Audrey considers it. “Maybe, but these ones don’t need much trauma to activate, if any- I’m not sure how much we can do preemptively.”

“Besides which, we’re already busy and also under-staffed,” Duke points out. He sighs, rubs his forehead. “Christ.” He turns toward Nathan. “Y’know, we could still just leave. Just pull anchor and go to Jamaica or something.”

Nathan snorts. “You don’t mean that.”

“I kind of do,” Duke insists.

“Really? And leave Audrey to deal with this all by herself?” Nathan questions.

Duke groans. “No. Damn you. You bring out the best in me, and I resent it deeply.”

Nathan laughs, leans over, and nonchalantly kisses Duke square on the mouth. Audrey’s whole body jerks.

Duke makes a tiny face. “You’re sticky.”

Audrey gapes at them wordlessly.

Duke notices first. “Uh, Audrey. Why are you making that face at me?”

“You’re a thing!” she exclaims in shock.

Duke raises his eyebrows. “Yes. I’m ‘a thing.’ The truth is, Audrey, I’ve been ‘a thing’ this whole time. Made of matter and everything. I hope that my ‘thing’-status doesn’t bother you too much. Uh, what are you talking about?”

“She’s talking about us,” Nathan says quietly, staring at Audrey. His expression is one of muted horror. “We’re not, where she’s from.”

Duke squints at him for a couple of seconds. “Right. I see that you think that was an explanation, but it really didn’t help.”

“She’s talking about us,” Nathan says again, his voice rising in pitch as he leans back, eyes widening. “Audrey had no idea that we’re a couple.”

The levity drops out of Duke’s face as he looks at Audrey. “That’s not true,” he says blankly.

Audrey, still too shocked to really react to this situation, just nods.

“Oh, Jesus,” Duke says.

“Right,” Nathan says suddenly. “I’m officially on board with the ‘never going back there’ plan.”

Duke smiles a little, but his eyes are still freaked out. “Yeah,” he agrees. “Let’s stay here.”

Audrey keeps staring. A few times she opens her mouth to make some kind of inquiry along the lines of _“what the actual fuck?!”_ but can’t think of a good way to phrase it, so she just shuts it again.

Duke is finally the one who huffs a deep breath, grabs Nathan’s hand, and turns toward Audrey. “All right. Fallout time. Let’s discuss this.”

Audrey lets out a breath. “Okay,” she says, with much more calmness than she feels. “How long?”

“You’re gonna need to be a lot more specific,” Nathan says dryly. “We’ve been dating for, what, little over a year and a half now?”

“Yeah,” Duke agrees. “You were the one who kicked us into gear, actually.”

“Oh,” Audrey says faintly. “Well, good for me. What were you doing before that?”

“Pretending to hate him, mostly,” Nathan says. “You didn’t buy it.”

“That... sounds weirdly familiar,” Audrey says.

“Good,” Duke says, then scrunches up his nose. “Sorta.”

Audrey snorts, then focuses. “So I show up in Haven, question Nathan, and push you two into having sex?”

“Nah, we were already having sex,” Duke replies. Nathan is blushing faintly. “You pushed us into also dating.”

“Oh!” Audrey says. Come to think of it, she’d actually suspected something similar when she first arrived in Haven. Something about Nathan’s professed hatred paired with reluctant care made her suspect that he was a scorned ex. “Okay, so how long were you two… benefrenemies?”

Nathan makes a weird face. “Started when we were twenty. But it was on-again off-again.”

Audrey’s gaping again, because that is both a very long time for them to be having angry sex and because it’s really weird for a reality-altering Trouble to go back that far.

“Okay, yes, but like he said, it wasn’t for the whole time. On-again, off-again. I had a whole marriage in there,” Duke points out.

“Technically speaking, you’re still married,” Nathan says wryly.

“Do you have any idea how difficult it is to get divorce papers served to a Venezuelan women’s prison?” Duke protests.

“Point is, it wasn’t for that entire time,” Nathan says. Duke is nodding in agreement.

Audrey scratches her eyebrow _(Lexie DeWitt- habit established by itchy piercing)_. “Okay, why don’t you just tell me the story from the beginning.”

“The beginning,” Nathan repeats. He glances at Duke. “What’s the beginning?”

“We could start with that time you attack-kissed me by the docks,” Duke suggests.

“I did not-”

“I think you should start there,” Audrey interrupts.

Duke grins. “Okay, so Nate and I were twenty. He was back from college for some kind of break, and- I didn’t know this at the time- fresh off a breakup. We ran into each other and started fighting.”

“I don’t actually remember about what,” Nathan puts in.

“Me neither. Just the usual, I guess,” Duke says. “Anyway, Nathan spots some cop- and this is before he became one, remember, so they would have frowned on him assaulting some relatively innocent citizen.”

Nathan snorts. “Yeah. You poor thing.”

Duke ignores him. “And Nathan, having not told his father that he was in the zip code and not wanting to disclose that knowledge by way of a mugshot, puts his hand on my mouth and backs me up against one of the shacks to avoid getting noticed. So the cop walks by, but we were all close and up in each other’s business…”

“I took my hand off his mouth, and then…” Nathan sketches his hand in a brief wave apparently intended to denote some heavy-duty making out. “I didn’t attack him, though. I’m not even sure it was me who started it.”

“It could have been me,” Duke admits. “Not really sure on that bit. We were already pretty close together, and it was pretty obvious that we were both down, so it’s probably not important. Was definitely Nathan who kicked it up to the next level, though.”

Nathan blushes faintly. “Yes, okay. _If_ we could avoid telling her the details on that.”

Duke grins. “No fun details, but here’s a good one. When we broke apart at first, Nathan was all, ‘We can’t do this…’ I, expecting this, was back-tracking in an effort to avoid getting punched. So while I’m politely backing off, Nathan’s finishing, ‘Here. We can’t do this here.’” A blissful grin breaks out on Duke’s face at the memory. “I love his rebellious moments, I really do.”

Nathan is, by now, substantially more red in the face. “Yeah, well.”

“You suck at rebounding,” Audrey informs him.

“Yup,” Nathan agrees.

“It was always gonna happen,” Duke comments, waving a hand. Then he frowns. “Or, not, I guess, since in yours…”

“I actually had suspicions when I first showed up,” Audrey admits. “Vibes.”

“Oh,” Duke says. “Well, we weren’t together then, so maybe that all happened and you just didn’t find out. We both play straight pretty well. The ladies love me, and Nate specializes in repression.”

Nathan just rolls his eyes. “I don’t care. It doesn’t matter. I won’t go back.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” Duke says quickly. “Happened here- that’s plenty.”

Audrey nods insistently. “Yes. I agree.” She’s not one hundred percent certain that this is true, but she pushes past it. “So, you two hooked up when you were twenty and proceeded to have casual sex for fifteen years. _On and off_ ,” she adds, when they both open their mouths.

“Yeah. If we were single and both in town,” Nathan says.

“Right,” Audrey says. “And then I showed up and made you date each other?”

Nathan lets out a beleaguered sigh. “So it turns out that I’m not made for ‘casual.’ I’m either not in or all in.”

“This I know,” Audrey says sagely, nodding. “So you resented Duke for not being into commitment.”

“Right,” Nathan says grudgingly. “And you convinced me to ask him out.”

“By all accounts, this was not an easy feat, but you are a persistent lady,” Duke says, tipping an imaginary hat at her.

Audrey snorts, imagining the task. “Oh, my god. I must really like you guys.”

“You are our very favorite fruit fly,” Duke replies.

Audrey laughs, then, and it catches her by surprise. “So, Duke said yes?”

“I’ve only met, like, five people cold-hearted enough to turn down his particular brand of adorable nervousness,” Duke states matter-of-factly. “Okay, and yes, there is the small matter of I’m in love with him.”

Audrey’s got her game face on, now, and doesn’t react outwardly. She glances between them, but Nathan doesn’t react other than to smile slightly around the bite of pancake he is chewing, so this is clearly not a new revelation.

“Huh,” Audrey says. “Well, mazel tov.”

Duke sarcastically toasts with his soda as Audrey’s phone rings.

Audrey picks it up, relieved to see it’s Claire.

“So there’s been another immolation,” Claire says matter-of-factly. “This guy didn’t make it. Scott Rodriguez. His wife, Dana, works at the Art Center with Rose, and she suddenly ran out of work an hour ago. Can you take this? I’ve gotten frantic calls from three former patients in the past twenty minutes.”

“I am on it,” Audrey says eagerly. Work. Work is good.

“You sound enthusiastic. Something going on?” Claire asks. “You’re only this excited about lethal Troubles when you’re avoiding an emotional crisis.”

Audrey makes a face. “Later. Go deal with your patients.”

“Audrey.”

“Later, I promise. Flames and destruction now.”

“Right. Call me if you need anything.” Claire hangs up.

Audrey slides her phone away. “Dana Rodriguez is our likely candidate for the immolation Trouble.”

“Can I finish my pancakes?” Nathan asks, a bit pitifully.

Audrey sighs. “You have two minutes.”

* * *

 

“I can’t do this, I can’t risk it happening again,” Dana whimpers, gun in her hands. “I don’t want to, I want to live, but what if it’s my daughter next? I can’t take that risk.”

“Listen, Dana, we can work on this,” Audrey says soothingly. “Get you into therapy to keep your emotions under control, take other precautions if we need to. We deal with things like this all the time.”

“Like Thornton Arrons? His shadow kills people and tonight he has to go back in his house. He only got out a year ago,” Dana says. “There’s not a Barn anymore; there’s not an expiration date. You really think it’s better if I live like that? No. No, it’s safer, better, if I just…” She begins drawing the gun up her body, toward her head.

Audrey, Nathan and Duke have all been slowly advancing on her at different angles. As she moves the gun, they all lunge. Nathan’s the one who grabs her hand just as the gunshot sounds.

Dana screams, quite vocally still alive, but there’s blood everywhere. Duke is hastily backing off when Dana reaches out with a bloody hand and grabs his bare wrist.

Duke freezes, breath fast and terrified, but his eyes remain dark.

“Please, don’t make me live like this,” Dana begs. “I can’t kill more people I care about; I can’t live in isolation…”

“Let go of me,” Duke says, flatly, but Audrey recognizes the pleading in his voice, the panic.

“Dana, let go of him,” Audrey says firmly, pulling her hand clear. “Duke, go wash off. Dana, the bullet scraped your scalp, okay? I’m gonna put pressure on it, and Nathan here is gonna call an ambulance, and a therapist is gonna meet you at the hospital to talk about this, okay?”

Duke’s nearly cotton-colored, running his hand under a nearby water fountain. Nathan’s talking semi-coherently to Laverne, joining Audrey in watching Duke concernedly. Dana’s crying, tears clearing streaks in the blood on one cheek.

Nathan’s redialing, talking to Claire, getting her to meet them at the hospital.

“Please, don’t make me go to the hospital,” Dana says. “I don’t know what I’ll do. What if I make someone hurt themself again? I killed my husband. I don’t know what I’ll do.”

“You need help,” Audrey says. “We can get you some drugs to reduce extreme emotions- that should help. You can’t make your daughter lose both parents today.”

“You really expect me to live like this, permanently.”

“It’ll be okay, Dana. We’ll figure it out,” Audrey says soothingly, just as the ambulance pulls up. Audrey quickly explains the situation to a deeply alarmed but professional EMT before herding Nathan and a shell-shocked Duke into the ambulance with Dana.

* * *

 

At the hospital, Duke pulls Nathan off in the distance- too far for Audrey to eavesdrop, so she just watches them. Duke’s body language is pleading; Nathan’s defensive.

Claire walks up. “Dana’s sedated and I’ve got her penciled into my schedule. She signed a contract agreeing not to kill herself, and her daughter’s here, which should help.”

“Okay,” Audrey says. “Good. How are your patients?”

“Terrified,” Claire says. “I’ve dealt with two activations. Nothing too bad, so far, but people are panicking. I just got a weird call from one of my clients. I’m gonna go check it out, but I’d appreciate it if at least one of you would come with me.”

“Fine. I’ll grab Nathan and Duke.” Audrey stands and walks over toward them. “Hey, we’ve got a-”

“Can we have a minute?” Nathan interrupts, frustrated. “Duke’s trying to dump me.”

“That’s not fair,” Duke protests.

“Whoa, back up!” Claire says. “What’s going on? Duke?”

Duke runs a hand through his hair. “Nathan’s Troubled,” he says quietly. “Not now, but we’re doing this for real again. It’s not over. What happens when we both activate? I just think the best thing I can do for Nathan’s safety is to make him stay away from me.”

“Well, does the second-best thing you can do for my safety suck any less?” Nathan demands.

“Nate,” Duke sighs. “I’m not saying now, but when we activate-”

“No. Stop it,” Nathan says. “I’m not afraid of your Trouble.”

“You should be! You don’t understand what it’s like. I don’t know what I’ll do,” Duke confesses miserably. “Especially since yours is numbness. Since you won’t know when you’re bleeding.”

“No. Fuck that. I don’t want to do this alone, and I know you don’t either. I love you,” Nathan says. “So we’re gonna deal with this. If my Trouble causes an issue for you, we will talk about it, work around it. Put foam on all the corners of the Rouge if we have to. We’ll figure it out.”

“I can’t take that chance, not with you,” Duke argues.

Audrey sticks two fingers in her mouth and whistles, interrupting them. “So, in my timeline, you’ve both been Troubled for ages now. Nothing’s happened. Duke, you have not gone on a murdering spree, you have not gone after Nathan’s blood. Relax.”

Claire gives Audrey a weird sideways look, but then refocuses on Duke. “Duke, listen. People are fundamentally logical. We choose what we value. In order for you to kill Nathan, you would have to, at least momentarily, value something- the rush, hiding past crimes, something- more than you value him. And quite frankly, that is not going to happen. By now you should know that. Whatever else you have to be afraid of, you won’t kill Nathan.”

“Wonderful,” Nathan says, not taking his eyes off Duke. “Are we good?”

“I’m terrified,” Duke admits quietly. “I don’t want to do this.”

“Yeah? Well, stop being so gung-ho about doing it alone,” Nathan grumbles.

A tiny hint of a smile quirks at the edge of Duke’s mouth. “Okay.”

Nathan’s body goes loose with relief. “Okay,” he echoes.

“I am going to talk with you both later,” Claire promises. Her voice is sweet, but the look she throws at Nathan is slightly menacing.

“All right,” Nathan replies meekly. Claire nods firmly.

“But right now, I’m going to go deal with a client. I just texted Rebecca, and she’s going to come with me. You all go home. I’ll see you tomorrow,” Claire says all of this with a tone that leaves no room for argument.

“Hey, do I have an apartment?” Audrey asks Duke.

“Sorta? There’s plastic wrap on everything and some of my seasonal décor is in your kitchen,” Duke says apologetically. “I’ll get it cleaned out. You can just crash in the spare room on the Rouge tonight.”

“Sure,” Audrey says. “Let’s go.”

All three of them pile into the Bronco, because apparently Nathan lives on the Rouge as well in this timeline. They drive back in relatively comfortable silence. Duke rests a hand on Nathan’s thigh. Audrey stares at it from the backseat.

Earlier today, she was the one who was allowed to put her hands all over Nathan. It was a frustrating relationship, to be sure- too much about her that Nathan can’t handle (that _she_ can barely handle, but she has to, and he refuses to). There’s too much in her past that he can’t forget, can’t let go. The relationship was never going to work, and this way, at least, Audrey gets a clean break. Nathan is happy, far happier than he was with her. Still, the sight causes her to shake a little, brings a slight sting to her eyes.

Audrey pushes out a long breath and steels herself _(Audrey Parker, who grew up in foster homes without enough privacy for a good cry)_. This is ridiculous. Nathan is happy. She is no longer trapped by his idealism. Duke is happy. This is clearly better. This should not sting.

But logic isn’t winning, because she needs liquor and about eight goddamn cupcakes if she’s going to be expected to deal with this.

They pull up to the marina and climb out, walking over to the boat. A cat jumps up to the side of the boat and meows angrily at them.

“Freckles, you poor neglected kitty,” Nathan croons at the cat, picking it up and scratching its ears. “Yes, hello. Oh, I know.”

Audrey raises an eyebrow at him. “Okay, you’re baby-talking to a cat.”

“Freckles, this is Audrey. She’s our friend, even though she’s mocking me,” Nathan says.

“She was a marina kitten who Nathan began feeding, and now she lives here,” Duke informs her. “I didn’t really get a say in the matter.”

Nathan smirks. “That is… pretty much true,” he admits. “But I’ve never made gourmet cat food out of Gull leftovers.”

“I might as well,” Duke grumbles. “Wasn’t gonna do anything else with it. Speaking of which, Freckles sounds hungry. Aren’t you, girl?” He leans over and scratches her chin.

The three of them walk over to the kitchen, where Duke scoops something out of a container that smells better than things Audrey’s eaten.

“Your cat is incredibly spoiled, huh?” Audrey says.

“Yes. Shut up,” Nathan says mildly.

She smiles, remembering her own very spoiled cat from years past. _(Sister Catherine. The cat was named Bebo. She’d left him with Fitzgerald Crocker when the Barn came.)_

Freckles begins happily eating, tail in the air. The humans of the group retreat to the state room, where Duke pours liquor and they slowly manage to relax together.

Duke curled up against Nathan’s shoulder, with Nathan’s arm around him. Freckles is purring on Nathan’s lap. Audrey isn’t sure whether to coo at them or ache inside, so she does a little of both.

This hurts a little. She loves Nathan, at least a part of her does _(Sarah has highly mixed feelings; echoes of Mara want only William; a few dozen other names have loved a few dozen others with all of her fractured heart)_ , and she’s lost him. Quickly, easily, with no discussion or fight, he’s slid out of her fingers.

On the other hand, Nathan is far closer to her now than he’s been in ages. Although he’s tangled with Duke rather than her, he’s spent the last few weeks professing closeness with his lips while pulling away emotionally. He isn’t pulling away now.

He doesn’t know that he should.

Audrey reminds herself that even this is far more than she deserves.

And Duke. He smiles at her without reservation, without knowing what she’s done. He has no idea that she very nearly destroyed him.

Nathan and Duke have both kicked off their shoes. Audrey hasn’t let either of them see the bandages on her bare foot since the merge. Here, she could. She could flash the missing toe and they would express nothing but curiosity and sympathy. This mark of Mara doesn’t horrify them. But it still horrifies her, so she keeps her boots on.

If she thinks about this any more, she may start crying or throwing things or slide into a uselessly self-hating depression.

“I am going to bed,” she declares.

“’Kay,” Duke says. “I assume you still know where everything is?”

“Yeah. Thanks,” Audrey says, walking off. The missing toe aches more than usual.

* * *

 

She wakes up much too early the next morning and gets up to make coffee.

As she passes the main bedroom, she notices that the door is open slightly. She stares at it, nose wrinkling, before tiptoeing over and peering in.

Audrey immediately bites down on a smile at Nathan. She’s always thought he sleeps like a corpse- limbs straight, posture unnaturally perfect. Here, though, he’s sprawled on his stomach, arms and legs everywhere. He is also a blanket hog. Duke is curled around him, finding space in between Nathan’s limbs. He’s snoring softly. Freckles is between their heads. The room is clearly theirs. Decoupage bookends lie on either side of a shelf filled with obscure books in several languages.

She tiptoes back out. The ache in her chest is starting to die down, and the smile pulling at her lips is at least sort of genuine. She heads to the kitchen.

“Morning, Mara,” Charlotte says, pushing a mug toward her. “Coffee?”

Audrey sighs. “Of course. You’re immune too. How could I forget? Also, you’re breaking and entering.”

“Fortunate, then, that my daughter’s a police officer,” Charlotte says.

“Not here,” Audrey says. “I went into the Barn here. Everyone’s very surprised to see me.” There’s an involuntary edge in Audrey’s voice. Charlotte created the Barn, and a part of Audrey still resents the centuries of repeated loss.

“Interesting,” Charlotte says. “Do you know what the change is?”

Audrey shrugs. “Troubled guy gave Nathan a gift. Not sure exactly what it was. He didn’t flub the Barn; his Trouble didn’t come back; he’s not in love with me.”

Charlotte sips from her coffee, not visibly reacting to any of this. “So, are you going to solve the Trouble?”

“No,” Audrey says firmly. “There aren’t as many Troubles here. Innocent people we lost are alive. I don’t need Nathan to love me.”

“You don’t need anyone,” Charlotte says. “You believe that now.”

_(Mara, who screamed as they pushed William into the Void, “I need him! I can’t lose him! I need him!)_

“Don’t take that too strongly,” Audrey warns. “He’s my friend, and I’m not willing to lose him. Don’t try anything.”

“I have no reason to harm him,” Charlotte says coolly.

“You threw William into the Void, and you used to approve of him,” Audrey replies in the same cool tone.

Charlotte tips one shoulder in a nonchalant shrug. “You are my daughter, and I’ll do what it takes.”

Audrey sips the coffee. “So, what did you spend yesterday doing?”

“Solved a couple Troubles. Looked for you,” Charlotte says. “You didn’t come to the police station, and no one would tell me where you or Nathan had been dispatched to. So we’re staying here, then?”

“Yeah, that’s the plan,” Audrey replies. “If you want to help, I’ll give Laverne your phone number and tell her to put you on calls.”

Charlotte nods. “Yes, do that. Is Dwight around?”

“On his way from Taiwan, but I am not pairing you together. Ew, Mother,” Audrey replies.

Charlotte frowns at her. “It’s none of your business.”

“Ew,” Audrey repeats firmly.

“Hm,” Charlotte says. “Well, I’m going to go. Let me know if you need any assistance.” She unfolds herself from the chair and pats her hand. “Goodbye, Mara.”

“Might be better if you didn’t call me that here,” Audrey says. She doesn’t resent the name- can’t, after all, because any evil associated with it is hers in much more than title. If anything, she appreciates it. Charlotte is the only person in this world who can say that name with any kind of tenderness, and sometimes she needs to remember that she wasn’t just the villain. Charlotte remembers.

“If we are really going to stay here, do you really intend to never tell them? Am I to live my life as though you are not my daughter?” Charlotte asks.

“I don’t know,” Audrey says quietly. “For now. We’ll figure it out when things die down.”

“Will they?”

“You know I don’t know that.”

Charlotte frowns at her. “You’re so rash. Doing things like this without understanding the consequences.”

“I did what I thought I had to,” Audrey says shortly. “You should go before Duke and Nathan wake up.”

Charlotte sighs. “I didn’t mean to make you angry.” Then, a moment later, “Nathan? He’s here?”

“Good _bye_ , Mother!”

* * *

 

“You made coffee,” Duke says gratefully.

“You made pancakes! Never go away again,” Nathan says passionately, grabbing some.

Audrey snorts. “You’re both welcome. How’s the leg?”

Nathan shrugs. “Could be a lot worse.”

“Good, I guess. So I’ve recruited another member of the B-Team- name’s Dr. Charlotte Cross. CDC, but you don’t have to worry about her revealing Haven to anyone official.”

“Good,” Nathan says. “We can call Tommy Bowen if it gets bad. Could probably guilt him into stopping by, at least for a couple days.”

Audrey squints, nods, and reminds herself that Tommy Bowen did not actually kill Nathan that one time. “Good plan. Could call Jennifer, too. Probably freak her out.”

“Who’s that?” Duke asks.

“Here? Some lady in Boston who currently believes that she has an exceptionally well-controlled psychiatric condition,” Audrey replies. “Could be complicated to convince her that she’s not. …Plus, I don’t actually know how to contact her.”

“Well, we can wait until we really need the help,” Nathan says. “Probably best to stick with people who know about the Troubles, for now.” His phone rings. “Ah. Speaking of which… Whaddaya got, Laverne? Uh huh. Shit. Okay, we’ll be there in a few minutes.” He hangs up. “So Mitch Rekow’s house is being attacked by velociraptors.”

* * *

 

Mitch Rekow’s living room is piled high with science books and there are confusing dinosaur drawings on his wall.

“You have got to get rid of these things!” Audrey hollers at him in the living room while Nathan and Duke fire shotguns at the raptors outside.

“I don’t want them here!” Mitch yells back, crouching terrified behind the couch.

“Did anything traumatic happen to you recently?” Audrey shouts back.

“ _There are dinosaurs in my yard!_ ”

This, Audrey mentally concedes, is a fair point. “Before that!”

“It was just the anniversary of my aunt killing her husband?” Mitch suggests.

“How does that make you feel?” Audrey asks just as a velociraptor comes crashing down into the garden, screeching in pain.

“My tomatoes,” Mitch whimpers.

“Focus!” Audrey says. “How do you feel about the murderous aunt?”

“It made me wonder if I had the potential to do that. Is Machiavellianism genetic?” Mitch asks.

“You’re wondering if you’re dangerous, and you like dinosaurs,” Audrey sums up. “Listen, most of my best friends are related to murderers, and they’re great. Cruelty is a _choice_. If you don’t want to be like her, don’t decide to be.”

“Aunt Felicia always seemed so nice,” Mitch says sadly.

“You don’t have to be like her. You can decide what you want to do with your life,” Audrey replies, knowing full well that this isn’t necessarily true. Hopefully Mitch isn’t one of those people who will find himself having to murder or risk worse consequences.

“No, I can’t. I can’t even get rid of the raptors,” Mitch points out.

“Just focus. Breathe. And remember that you always have choices.” This, if nothing else, Audrey has always proven to be true.

Mitch does so, and the din outside abruptly cuts off.

Duke stomps inside first. “You, good sir, have the worst Trouble-”

Immediately following him is a filthy, gun-toting Chris Brody. “Hey, Audrey,” he says.

Audrey blinks at him. “Uh, hi, Chris. What are you doing here?”

“He’s my cousin,” Mitch fills in. “I called him right after I called you.”

“He helped us fight the dinosaurs,” Duke says. “He’s very helpful.” Chris suddenly looks very alarmed, which Duke notices and adds, “Terrible shot, though. And his shirt is ugly.”

“Thank you,” Chris replies, relieved.

“He hasn’t been Troubled in over a year and he still operates on reverse flattery,” Mitch says, chuckling. “And his didn’t even involve vicious reptiles.”

Audrey snorts. “So, Chris, you wanna be on the Trouble-fighting force?”

“Not really,” Chris says miserably. “Is there a C-team I can be on? Only for really serious emergencies? I’d really rather not be exposed to emotional trauma. Ever. I know that’s probably a common sentiment, but I’m very serious.”

“Yes, yes, fine. Welcome to the contingency team,” Audrey says, exasperated. “How’ve you been?”

“I didn’t tip my waitress this morning and she glared at me, so that’s pretty great. On the other hand, velociraptors,” Chris says, with a so-so motion of his hand.

“Yeah. We’re gonna go now.”

“Okay. You wanna get dinner sometime?” Chris asks.

“No,” Audrey replies bluntly. Chris shrugs. He is good that way, she muses. He sugarcoats nothing and expects the same. Letting him down easy would only annoy him.

“What about me?” Mitch asks hopefully.

“Also no. Good luck with the Trouble. Call 911 again if they come back, and consider getting more guns,” Audrey says, turning and walking out and meeting Nathan on the porch.

“Velociraptors. I hate this town,” he says flatly. “Dwight’s here. I sent him to help Claire with one of her patients. Also, Lucassi wants us in his morgue.”

* * *

 

“Whoa. Okay, this is a lot of bodies. What’s happening and why didn’t we hear about it sooner?” Audrey demands.

“Mostly what’s happening is panic. Twelve normal-looking suicides, one normal-looking murder, Scott Rodriguez- hear you already solved that one- and two mummies. I’ve identified one as Lisa Anderson. I’m not sure who the other is.”

“Who’s the murder?” Nathan asks. Lucassi frowns at him. “I’m still a cop, even if I don’t specialize in normal.”

“From what I’ve heard, you wouldn’t be allowed to investigate the case anyway,” Lucassi says pointedly. “Hannah Driscoll, I’m afraid. Poor girl.”

Nathan blinks. “You’re sure? Hannah and Bobby- her adopted son- they gleefully fled this town as soon as the Troubles ended.”

“Oh, she was gleeful about it too,” Duke adds. “She cussed out the entire congregation of the Good Shepherd. They were pretty freaked. …They should probably be suspects.”

Audrey is familiar with this. After she shot Reverend Driscoll, in her timeline, they’d been very concerned that the congregation would come after her in a fiery shitstorm. Instead, they proceeded to do basically nothing ever again. It turned out that the Rev had never told his congregation that his daughter’s adopted son was Troubled, so after his death, Hannah returned to the church and proceeded to neuter it from within. They’d been essentially inert ever since, due to a combination of strategic Bibling, file shuffling, and stealing everyone’s firing pins. Hannah pretty much hated her life, but her operations saved Nathan and Duke’s lives with alarming frequency.

“She had to come back when the Troubles returned. To get medication for her son, evidently. He’s in protective custody, a term here meaning ‘Stan’s couch,’” Lucassi informs them.

“This means that the Revlings are going to be a problem again,” Audrey says gravely. “Once they figure out what’s happening and get their forces together. So… any time now.”

“Nathan. Don’t go anywhere alone. I don’t want them to kidnap you again,” Duke says.

Audrey blinks. “Okay, I need to hear that story later.”

“It’s weird that you say that, since you were there,” Duke says.

“Anyway, back to the mummies,” Lucassi says impatiently. “They seem to be several years old, but they were found on the floor of the gun shop on 2nd this morning.”

“The unidentified mummy,” Nathan prompts.

“Female. Mid-fifties.”

“Doesn’t sound like anyone who works there,” Duke muses, prompting suspicious looks all around. “What? I have a permit, kinda.”

“We’ll look into it,” Nathan says wearily. “Did you say twelve suicides?”

“Troubled. Scared. No one’s willing to do this again,” Lucassi says tightly. “Claire knew some of them; says she believes those at least to indeed be individual suicides rather than the influence of a separate Trouble.”

“Dana’d be here too if we hadn’t been able to pull the gun away,” Duke points out.

“Right,” Nathan says grimly. “Damn. It’s been less than a day.”

Audrey grimaces. There hasn’t been a rash of suicides in her Haven, but then again, they hadn’t been given false hope to lose.

“Let’s go to the gun store,” Audrey says abruptly. “Solve this before Lucassi has more work on his hands.”

“’Preciate that,” Lucassi grunts.

“If we need to hire another coroner, Gloria Verrano’s pretty good,” Audrey says. “And Vicki Dutton’s an excellent intern.”

“I don’t like people,” Lucassi points out.

“Yes, well,” Nathan grunts. “Panic isn’t likely to die down anytime soon.”

Lucassi sighs, muttering under his breath, “Hate this town. Swear to god…” With that, he turns around and marches off toward his office.

“He is going to quit again,” Audrey says grimly. “Okay. Mummies.”

* * *

 

When they get to the gun store, Dwight’s already there. He’s also wheelchair-bound, a fact which Nathan and Duke take completely in stride.

“Audrey. Guys. I’m already on this one, if you need to go take something else,” Dwight says.

“You know who did this?” Nathan asks.

“Think so. Knew someone in the Guard with a Trouble like this,” Dwight says grimly. “I hate this town. I was in Taiwan.”

Nathan nods. “Sorry. Best of luck with this. Call us if you need help.”

“Yeah. Actually, I just got a call for backup. You know Grady Moore?” Dwight asks.

“I know of him,” Audrey replies. “Jordan’s Guard partner, right?”

Dwight blinks at her. “You know Jordan?”

“Sorta. What’s up?”

“Apparently Grady’s stepson just activated and they can’t find any powerful enough magnets,” Dwight says.

They all squint at him.

“Yeah, I don’t know either,” Dwight confesses. “I’ll take this one and you take Tim Moore?”

“Fine, yeah. Text me the address and let me know how this goes?” Nathan replies.

* * *

 

They grab magnets at the nearest hardware store and drive to the address. By the time they get there, Jordan is already holding a sobbing pre-teen. Several industrial-grade magnets are scattered on the linoleum.

Jordan looks up at Nathan, who walked in first, and says, “Oh. You again.” Audrey can’t help but think that this is an appropriate sentiment. “We’ve already pulled him out, so I think we’re good to go.”

“Great. So, do you have another errand for us too?” Duke asks cheerfully just as Nathan’s phone rings. “Oops, scratch that.”

“What’s up, Laverne? No. Dwight’s gonna let us know. What? Okay. Oh? Can you give that to Claire- or Charlotte? Uh, okay. We’ll figure it out.” Nathan hangs up. “We have two Troubles to deal with, and our B-team is busy.”

“I can help,” Jordan says. “Just this once. But I do _not_ want to get partnered with Crocker.”

Duke gives her an impressively sarcastic thumbs-up.

“You’re partnered with me,” Audrey says quickly. “Nathan, what are the Troubles?”

“People getting stuck together at the sex shop,” Nathan says.

“You take that one,” Jordan says immediately, absentmindedly rubbing the bare skin of her arms.

“Farmer Forland’s pigs are laying siege to his house.”

“Sounds fun,” Jordan says grimly.

“You drive,” Audrey replies.


	3. Illusions, Delusions and Confusion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains some violence against animals, some violence by animals, some violence between people (including one scene of attempted domestic violence), and swearing.

The pigs are oinking angrily and ramming themselves into the front door. A few are trying to form a bovine pyramid to get through the window, but aren’t really coordinated enough to pull it off.

“I should have brought more guns,” Jordan comments, grimacing.

“E-I-E-I-O. Let’s do this,” Audrey replies.

They jump out of Jordan’s car and run toward the herd of pigs, firing warning shots into the air. “Farmer Forland! Are you okay in there?”

“The door isn’t going to hold for much longer, and my daughter’s in here!” he shouts back.

“Don’t shoot the pigs!” the daughter shouts. “They have feelings!”

One of the pigs throws itself against the door, causing it to shake, and squeals loudly.

“Right now I think they feel pissed,” Jordan comments. “Damn. I always think of pigs as smaller than they are.”

Jordan has a point. The pigs are enormous. Not as big as the velociraptors from this morning, but much angrier and, Audrey suspects, smarter.

The pig throws itself against the door again.

“Get away from the door!” Jordan hollers, and fires at the pig. It goes down, squealing loudly.

“No! Stop it! Pigs have _rights_!” the daughter screams.

“Shaddap, Gretchen!” Farmer Forland yells.

Gretchen replies, but over the cacophony of oinking, all Audrey can hear is an angry tone.

“We have to shoot the pigs so they don’t kill you!” Audrey hollers. “You have rights too!”

“Dad’s been killing their families for years! I’d be angry too!” Gretchen shouts, sounding close to tears.

Jordan and Audrey exchange glances. “It’s Gretchen,” Audrey says.

“Let me talk to her. I had a social justice phase; volunteered with ASPCA,” Jordan replies grimly. Audrey raises an eyebrow. “Though, yeah, the vegetarian thing didn’t end up working out.”

“Go for it,” Audrey replies.

Jordan clears her throat and hollers, “Gretchen! I know you want to help the pigs get justice, but this is not the way! If they kill you and your father, we will have to kill them, and it will just make everyone suspicious of animals! If you want people to think that pigs have rights like people, you can’t make them act like predators!”

The angry oinking goes down sharply, and the pig pyramid that was developing again halts.

“But that’s not working!” Gretchen insists. “They’ve been trying that for years!”

“And you think having an all-out animal war will make things better for the animals?” Jordan asks. “Gretchen, they’re not deciding to do this. Pigs are generally very peaceful animals. You’re making them do this. That’s not respect.”

“They have rights!” Gretchen says tearfully. “I’m just trying to help.”

By now, the oinking has mostly died out and many of the pigs are wandering away or eating from the flower garden. The large pig is still bleeding from the doorstep, looking woeful.

Jordan sighs and lowers the gun. Audrey follows suit. “Let’s go in. Make sure they’re all right,” Audrey suggests.

They tentatively walk up, stepping over the injured pig, and knock on the door.

“Farmer Forland? Gretchen?” Audrey calls tentatively.

The door cracks, then opens. Farmer Forland gestures them in, not saying anything but looking very stressed.

They walk in. Audrey spots Gretchen. She was expecting a stereotypical vegan with white-girl-dreadlocks and the scent of either pot or patchouli. Instead, Gretchen is a heavyset brunette in a miniskirt.

Gretchen frowns at Jordan. “I’ve seen you. You’re a waitress at that diner.”

“Yes,” Jordan says nervously. The pigs are oinking again.

“They serve meat there,” Gretchen says angrily.

“Look, I don’t run the place,” Jordan says. “I just have half a useless degree and they pay more than minimum wage.”

“They get their meat from big corporate slaughterhouses!” Gretchen shouts. “You’re a part of the problem!”

“I just need a job! I’m not happy about it either!” Jordan says, eyes wide. “Gretchen, calm-”

“Telling me to calm down isn’t going to calm me down!” Gretchen screams. “God, you’re such a hypocrite! I can’t believe I listened to you!”

The pigs start pouring through the still open door, squeals reaching a crescendo again. Jordan turns, aiming the gun at a very large boar eyeing her angrily.

“Don’t hurt the pig!” Gretchen roars.

“Make it stop or we’ll have to shoot them or you!” Audrey shouts in reply.

Gretchen yells incoherently. The pigs charge toward them- dozens of them; too many of them to fight. Jordan fires as the boar starts to charge toward her, but only slows it down.

Audrey spins and shoots Gretchen through the head.

Immediately, all the pigs go calm. The boar charging Jordan stops mid-lunge and begins sniffing a shoe instead.

“You shot my daughter,” Farmer Forland whispered, shocked. “Oh my god, Gretchen!” He runs toward her and drops to his knees. “You shot my daughter!”

“She would have killed us,” Audrey replies. “She would have killed us for the pigs.”

“You could have shot the pigs instead,” he says, horrified, staring at his daughter’s blood pooling on the linoleum. He picks up her hand and cradles it to his face. “Gretchen.”

“Too many of them,” Audrey replies. “I’m sorry.” It’s a lie. She doesn’t feel guilt. She doesn’t feel anything.

He looks up, angry. “Go. Get out of my house. Go!”

Audrey nods. She and Jordan walk out, stepping over pig carcass as they go.

“You probably just saved my life,” Jordan says quietly. “But that was still…”

“Are you about to get all judgy on me?” Audrey asks incredulously.

Jordan glances sideways at her. “What do you know about me? Did Claire tell you something?”

Audrey rolls her eyes. “Forget it. Look, I have been through way too much to get killed by an emotionally unstable vegan and her weaponized pigs. Fuck that. I will do _anything_ if I think I have to.”

Jordan snorts. “Can’t argue with that.”

They’re almost a matched set, with their palettes of good intentions and barely suppressed rage.

To avoid thinking about this any further, Audrey pulls out her phone. “Hey, Laverne. I’m at the Forland farm and I just had to kill someone. She was attacking us with pigs. Send Lucassi, or somebody.”

Laverne says stuff in a concerned tone that Audrey doesn’t bother process. She hangs up and checks her texts.

“Oh, hey. Looks like Nathan and Duke solved their thing too. Wanna get lunch?”

“I do not spend social time with Duke Crocker,” Jordan declares. “I don’t care that his thing isn’t active yet. No point getting invested if he’s just gonna start killing people.”

Audrey resists the urge to smack her forehead into the car window, knowing it wouldn’t make sense in this context. “Do what you want. I came in your car, though, so can you drop me off at the Gull?”

“Yeah, fine,” Jordan says, starting the car. “By the way, just because I owe you one doesn’t mean I won’t do whatever it takes to get your ass back in the Barn if it comes.”

“Yup,” Audrey replies nonchalantly.

“But if it doesn’t, you wanna drink and complain about men together sometime?” Jordan asks.

Audrey blinks. “Uh. That sounds like a good time and I appreciate the offer, but I don’t know when I’m gonna be rolling in free time again.”

“Point,” Jordan sighs. “God, this town sucks.” She pulls up to the Gull. “And on that note, bye. Don’t make me work on any more cases with you. But best of luck and all.”

“I, uh, appreciate that,” Audrey says, amused, and hops out of the car. Jordan speeds from the parking lot as if being on a Crocker’s property could be deadly all by itself. Audrey marches into the restaurant.

Nathan immediately hops out of his seat and hugs her. “Hey. Laverne told me what happened. Are you okay?”

Honestly, it takes Audrey a second to remember what he’s talking about. “Yeah, I’m okay. It had to be done.”

“So, was Scary Guard Woman helpful?” Duke asks.

“Yeah. And she asked me out on a chick-date.”

Duke’s face screws up. “Please don’t date anyone in the Guard.”

Nathan snorts. “I’m pretty sure she means ‘chick-date’ in the platonic sense, Duke.”

“Oh, right,” Duke says. “Straight people. Sorry. Ever since I came out, I keep forgetting that other people have sexual orientations where gender is relevant.”

Audrey rolls her eyes. She doesn’t go near the ‘straight people’ comment _(Veronica Hidgens, who’d deeply loved a woman named Maria; Katelynn Wallis, an artist who specialized in and appreciated the female form; Isadore Duncan, who’d worked as a prostitute and didn’t feel much preference for male clients over female.)_ Could the Barn actually change her sexual orientation? Or is the potential for fluidity a part of her?

It doesn’t matter, because she’s too busy to have that particular identity crisis right now. “I’m not gonna chick-date Jordan anyway. So how was your Trouble?”

Duke snorts. “Anyone who touched, skin-to-skin, got glued together there. It looked like they’d gotten melted into one another. And most of the time they freaked and tried to pull apart and just made it worse… This one couple tried to make out and had two faces and three hands stuck together in this weird lumpy mess before we could fix it. And the gentleman in the porn booth got his hand temporarily grafted to his dick. Poor dude.”

“In other news, Duke is really touchy-feely and kept making gestures to touch me before remembering what was going on and aborting,” Nathan adds.

Duke nods. “Yeah, so it turns out I’m clingy. Who knew? Oh, and the saleslady kept alternating between cooing at us and checking us out.”

“The saleslady? The one with her hands in her abdomen?” Nathan asks cluelessly.

“Man, you have absolutely no situational awareness when it comes to people trying to bang you. I have no idea how you landed such a catch,” Duke says.

Nathan snorts in a way that is somehow both very sarcastic and very fond.

“So, what was causing it?” Audrey asks.

“Sex shop, Audrey. A lady with really weird fantasies,” Duke says. “What do you want for lunch?”

“I dunno. Put food before me,” Audrey says.

“Make that two,” Nathan adds.

Duke laughs. “Yeah, fine. Be back in a second.” He leaves.

Nathan’s face slowly grows serious. “Seriously, Parker. Are you all right? It’s never easy when…”

Audrey nods. “I’m fine, Wuornos. Really.”

“I’m a cop too, Audrey. I know what it’s like to have to be a weapon,” Nathan says. “That kid with the heat Trouble, when you goaded him into- did that happen for you?” Audrey nods. “That was tough. And it sounds like this girl wasn’t malicious, just disturbed- look, I know you did the right thing. I know you wouldn’t hurt anyone unless you had to. But this is harder, and it’s okay if you want to talk about it or- or whatever. ‘M here for you.”

She smiles at him, despite the empty feeling deep in her chest. “’I appreciate that, and I’ll let you know if it hits me later or something, but right now I’m legitimately okay.”

He gives her a not-buying-it look, because once he gets something in his head, nothing short of a jackhammer can get it out.

Duke returns. “Kitchen will have three orders of food-before-thee in about twenty minutes.”

“Excellent,” Audrey replies.

“Glad you think so. So I was thinking. Maybe the Revlings aren’t gonna be a problem again. Didn’t Hannah- may she rest in nonreligious peace- say that they were all hesitant after their leader was killed by an act of God?” Duke asks.

“An act of God? What?” Audrey asks. Whatever killed Reverend Driscoll here, by that description, it probably wasn’t her bullet in his chest.

“The earth beneath him opened up and swallowed him whole,” Nathan says solemnly, though Audrey can tell from his tone that Nathan knows exactly how that happened.

“Ah. That kind of act of God,” Audrey says, grinning. “Okay, that would be a kick-ass church, though.”

“Wouldn’t it, though? We smoke these holy cigarettes and eat this holy casserole and say demeaning things to those we love, as is the path you have shown us. In the Chief’s name, Amen and aw, hell,” Duke jokes. Nathan chuckles and shakes his head.

“That happened during the kidnapping you don’t remember,” Nathan points out. “How’d he die in your timeline? The Rev, that is.”

“I shot him,” Audrey replies.

“Good for you!” Nathan and Duke reply simultaneously.

“Ha. Nice of you to say that. Neither of you actually felt that way at the time,” Audrey says.

“What? Why?” Duke asks.

“Ugh. It’s a complicated, unpleasant story. I’d rather hear about Nathan getting kidnapped by the Rev,” Audrey says.

“Ah, yes,” Duke says, sitting back dramatically. “Well, the Rev wanted me on his team, but first he wanted me to break up with Nathan- you know, stop being a sinful sodomite and become a nice wholesome murderer instead- and I told him that I had absolutely no interest in either heterosexuality nor serial murder.”

“Wait, you already knew what your Trouble was when the Rev tried to recruit you?” Audrey asks. Duke nods. “Who told you?”

“Nathan.”

“Who told Nathan?!”

“The Chief,” Nathan fills in. “Told me after I told him I was dating Duke. …Because he knew I was Troubled and was afraid for my life, I guess.”

Audrey laughs incredulously. “You came out to the Chief?”

“Yeah. He took the bisexuality pretty well, and the knowledge I was dating a guy. When I told him it was Duke, he cracked a wall and had a minor meltdown,” Nathan says sourly.

“Y’know, even with all the extenuating circumstances, I’m still a little offended,” Duke adds.

Audrey laughs again. “Okay, okay. So you know about your Trouble, and the Rev comes to you with an offer you absolutely can refuse… so he kidnaps Nathan?”

“Well, they tried to kill me,” Nathan says.

“This, naturally, being the next logical step to straighten me out and buy my loyalty,” Duke puts in.

Nathan picks up, “Four of them jumped me in a parking lot. Killed two of them, pretty seriously injured a third. Made enough of a racket that the two still alive got nervous and threw me into a van instead. I’d taken a bullet to the leg by then.”

“Right. So Nathan goes missing, and we’ve got a report of gunshots, two dead Revlings, shell casings from Nate’s service weapon, and lots of blood. Wasn’t too hard to figure out what happened,” Duke says grimly. He slips his hand into Nathan’s before continuing. “So you, me, the Chief, Sasquatch, and most of Haven PD are pissed off and storming everything owned by the church or the Driscolls. We found him.”

“The Rev decided to hold me alive as some kind of leverage to make Duke turn evil, I guess- the logic was always lost on me. So they’ve got me with a knife to my throat, and you all were trying to make him let me go,” Nathan recounts.

“He told me to renounce my evil ways and accept my path of different, eviler ways,” Duke says. “Said no. Said some other stuff besides. The Rev ordered the guy holding Nathan to kill him.”

“And that was around the time that the Rev fell into a giant crack in the earth,” Nathan says, smiling slightly. “Freaked the hell out of the rest. The one holding me let me go to check it out, but my leg was still busted, so some others grabbed me before I could get away. Stabbed me in the gut.”

“It was… pretty terrifying,” Duke says, color going slightly ashen at the memory. “You were yelling, but I don’t remember what you were saying. Nathan was bleeding everywhere. Someone said something like, ‘He’s gonna die’ and the Chief just…”

“Exploded,” Nathan says grimly. “Right there. Took out some more Revlings with cracks and… rubble.”

“Some of the cops freaked out then too, and the Revlings were still… people started shooting,” Duke says.

Audrey winces. “Bad news for Dwight.”

“Very bad news,” Duke says. “It’s how he ended up in that chair. One of the bullets clipped his spine. Hey, can he walk in your Haven?”

“Yeah, but his sister’s dead,” Audrey says.

“Oh. Hm,” Duke says. “Anyway, we won. The Chief was the only casualty on our side, though Nate and Sasquatch both came close. Oh, and my Trouble activated- Dwight’s blood was everywhere. You had to flash your badge at the paramedics to get them to let me on Nate’s ambulance.”

“Guess I figured if the numbness thing was a Trouble, that whole clusterfuck would have done it,” Nathan adds grimly. “It’s weird that it sort of never happened.”

“Yeah? Tell that to Dwight’s spine. Or your spleen,” Duke says, leaning over to gently touch a spot on Nathan’s abdomen. “It happened. Our lives are real.”

Nathan leans into him. “Real enough, yeah.”

Audrey tries not to make a weird face. They are extremely sweet, and it kind of makes her want to throw something.

She takes a moment to remind herself that having a stronger emotional reaction over Nathan and Duke engaging in mild PDA than killing a well-meaning teenager falls firmly into the category of Not Okay. Pull in a deep breath, push it out, get on with life.

Tracy stops by with food. “Welcome back, Officer Parker,” she says warmly. “Enjoy. Let me know if you need anything.”

“Her husband reappeared when the Troubles ended,” Duke mentions after she’s out of earshot. “It was fun to watch all the town gossips have minor apoplexies.”

Audrey snorted. “Yeah? So how was the end of the Troubles?” For all her experiences, she’s never seen that.

“Interesting,” Nathan says.

“I ended up going to rescue Ray McBreen. You know, the guy whose music causes insanity in the sane, vice versa? We forgot to call him beforehand and he found himself quite suddenly on a floating asylum,” Duke says. “Poor guy. His wife’s back in the Freddy now.”

Audrey winces. “Completely forgot about him. Oops. Hey, did Nathan still respond to that Trouble by trying to-”

“Kill Duke? Yep,” Nathan says grimly. “What can I say? I was really frustrated.”

“Wasn’t your fault,” Duke says, patting his shoulder.

“Do any other exciting things to celebrate the end of the Troubles?” Audrey asks.

Duke chuckles, blushing slightly. “Well, we road-tripped to Nebraska.”

“Neb- _Nebraska_ ,” Audrey says, getting it. Nebraska, significant only as the current location of Duke’s accidental Trouble baby. “So that still happened here.”

“Yeah, that was before you managed to set us up,” Nathan says. “Actually, I think that was why you set us up. Watching me switch between very worried and very angry for most of the day.”

Audrey snorts. “Sounds like good thinking on my part.” In her timeline, this happened after she decided that she wanted to bang one of them (though before she decided which one of them that was) and so chose to do nothing about Nathan’s odd I-hate-you-but-don’t-you-dare-die-on-me behavior.

“So? How’s Jean?” Audrey asks.

“Good,” Duke says. “Her- her parents are great. Good people.”

“Glad to hear it,” Audrey says. “Did Beatty come? And if so, how awkward was that?”

Duke snorts. “She did not. I sent her pictures, though. Nathan came, which was a good time. You know how he is around babies. I think it was pretty confusing for Jean’s parents, but they were good about it.”

“People kept trying to quiz me about our relationship without actually saying any gay-themed words,” Nathan says, amused. “Got a lot of, ‘So, are you two, _you know_?’”

“Oh, yeah, me too,” Duke says. “’Are you guys’ awkward-hand-wave? And people being extremely confused as to how I can have a biological daughter and a male partner.”

“Ah, Nebraska,” Nathan sighs.

“You wanna see some photos?” Duke offers.

She does, and the rest of the lunch passes in companionable conversation. Jean, a toddler, heavily resembles Duke and takes after neither Helena nor Beatty. There are about an equal number of pictures of Nathan playing with her as Duke.

Just as they finish up their food, Nathan’s phone rings. He sighs, answers it. “Hi, Lav- Oh, Vince. Hello. What do you want? Yeah, she’s here. Audrey. Yes. No. Yes. Uh, it’s complicated. Do you want to talk to her? Oh. Where? Yeah. Okay. Be there soon.”

“Did Vince Teagues just send us on a Trouble?” Duke asks crankily.

“Yep. And Audrey, he wants to talk to you,” Nathan reports. “About the Barn.”

“Of course he does,” Audrey sighs. “I’m telling him nothing. See how he likes it.”

“Karma,” Nathan agrees. “Anyway, Dave is now two inches tall.”

* * *

 

“This is all your fault,” Dave whines grumpily from his perch on Vince’s shoulder. He’s clinging to a curl of Vince’s hair. Sadly, his voice is not comically high-pitched. They’re in the local organic grocery store, being looked at sideways by the customers.

“My fault? How is this my fault?” Vince asks. “You’re the one who commented on Ali Gonzalez’s height in a stage whisper!”

“You’re the one who got his attention in the first place!”

“Ahem, boys,” Duke says. “What?”

“Duke,” Vince greets. “Nathan. … _Audrey_.” He says it wistfully, the Sarah-but-not-Sarah tone he’s never quite gotten over. _(Sarah Vernon loves him, but has never been in love with him, and could never find the words to express that.)_

“Is Ali Gonzalez unusually short?” Audrey asks.

Duke snorts. “Nope. He’s taller than me, and a lot thinner. Poor guy. Grown man with the proportions of Nathan in middle school.”

“Very funny. You know I have photos of the first time you tried to grow that facial hair,” Nathan says.

“Not as bad as you looking like Bambi for two years.”

“Boys,” Audrey says. “Focus. Is anyone else effected?”

Dave points and Audrey turns.

“Oh, hey! Shelby!” Duke calls.

“Duke Crocker,” she replies. “Long time, no see. Heard this place was normal now. Obviously heard wrong.”

“Yeah. Shelby, this is Nathan and Audrey. Guys, this is Shelby Zimmerman. We go back. She, uh, doesn’t usually look quite so much like Jessica Rabbit.”

This is an apt comparison to her current state. Audrey’s pretty sure some wristwatches could fit around her waist, but her bust and rear have swollen to absurd proportions, and her legs go on and on. Her clothes, like Dave’s, have fortunately changed to accommodate her current shape.

“Yeah, speaking of Bambi, I can barely walk on these things,” she says, gesturing at her legs. “Why am I now Barbie?”

“Do you know Ali Gonzalez?” Audrey asks.

“Barely,” Shelby says, shrugging. “He’s a contact. He’s sort of weird, though. Kept making passes. Which, you know, happens. Crime is a very sexist industry. But he was particularly creepy. Oh, speaking of which, Duke, I’ve been meaning to call you. Do you want to transport some-”

“No,” Duke interrupts quickly. “Noooo, I don’t. Sorry. Career change. I’m a restaurateur now.”

Shelby raises an incredulous and immaculately shaped eyebrow. “You went straight? You, of all people?”

“Uh, if by ‘straight’ you mean law-abiding, then yes. More or less,” Duke says.

“No shit! What, did something happen? Don’t tell me you found Jesus,” she says.

“I’m dating a cop,” Duke says. “Doing that while routinely committing felonies is both difficult and ill-advised.”

Shelby’s face scrunches up oddly. “Oh!” She pauses, then adds, “So, when you said, ‘fuck the police’, you meant that-”

“Never said that,” Duke cuts in tiredly. “For that exact reason.”

“For that reason? But you were a felon long before you were with the cop.”

Duke shrugs. “Technically true. But only technically.” Nathan, meanwhile, looks quite entertained by this conversation.

“Man, you were married,” Shelby points out. “Did Evi know that you were pining for an officer of the law?”

“Not specifically. Evi and I… we were fond of each other. It was fun, glamorous. Nothing more. She knew that. She knew I was running from someone else. She was fine with that. Somewhere, out there, in the great beyond, Evi Ryan’s got a hometown boy of her own. I think she’s still running, though.”

“This is fascinating and all,” Dave cuts in from Vince’s shoulder. “But shouldn’t we be fixing this Trouble?”

“Dave Teagues speaking out against idle gossip?” Vince replies nastily, and hypocritically.

“I agree with him,” Shelby says. “I’m pretty sure I don’t have any internal organs, and that could be a problem.” She emphasizes this by circling her waist with her hands.

“It sounds like Ali is our guy,” Audrey says. “He sees Dave as tiny, Dave becomes tiny. He sees Shelby as attractive…”

“And now each boob is the size of my head,” Shelby finishes. “And each buttock. Holy shit. Maybe my organs just moved.”

“Right,” Audrey sighs. “Where is he now?”

“Why, he left in a hurry right after I called you,” Vince says.

Audrey glares at him. “Why the hell didn’t you lead with that? What’s his address?”

* * *

 

Nathan’s driving, with Duke next to him. Audrey’s in the backseat, wedged between Vince and Shelby’s pendulous assets. Dave is sitting in a cup holder. As such, she doesn’t see it first.

The Bronco swerves. “What the fuck is that?” Nathan asks flatly.

“I don’t think we had one of those this morning,” Duke says distantly.

Audrey leans toward the window, elbowing one of Shelby’s boobs out of the way indelicately, and groans.

“Is that a volcano?” Audrey asks. “That’s a volcano. Wait, we had a volcano before, but…” But that woman’s Trouble had been kicked up by William. Her original Trouble hadn’t been nearly so severe. Would William’s modification have traveled through to this timeline? She scrunches up her face, unsure.

“But what?” Duke prompts.

Audrey pulls out her phone and calls Charlotte. “Hey. You think William’s Trouble modifications would travel through to here?”

“What?” Charlotte asks.

“There’s a small volcano on the outskirts of town. When William was here, he kicked up someone’s Trouble that did something similar, but in the library and significantly smaller. Would that modification have stuck in this timeline?”

“Yes, we know about the volcano. We’re on the way too. I’m not sure, but worth talking to the Troubled person,” Charlotte says. “Especially if he just exaggerated it, since Troubles can go into overdrive on their own anyway.”

“I don’t remember her name,” Audrey admits. “Maureen, maybe? Or Pauline? Hey, what do you mean ‘we’ know about the volcano?”

There’s shifty silence on the other end.

“Ugh. No. Do not do the thing.”

“You cannot tell me what and who I can and cannot do.”

“Yuck,” Audrey says.

Charlotte huffs. “What happened the first time a volcano erupted in Haven?”

“Uh, well, it was in a public area and happened relatively slowly- unlike this one- so we were able to evacuate and there was only one death, erm, Cliff’s wife- hang on, Cliff created an alternate universe that was Trouble-free! And none of William’s modifications carried through there… So, chances are, not here either. If it’s her, it’s probably just in overdrive. Serious overdrive, based on the size of this thing… Hm. Okay, thanks, you’ve been very helpful.” Audrey hangs up.

“Who is William and why can he modify Troubles?” Vince asks immediately.

“Not important right now. Vince, take Dave and Shelby, find Ali and talk him down. Might be easier if you drape Shelby in a blanket or muumuu or something first. Nathan, Duke, we’re going to the volcano. Do either of you know Maureen or Pauline, who works at the library?”

“Doreen Hanscomb,” Nathan replies immediately.

“I so appreciate your skill with names,” Audrey tells him.

“No problem,” Nathan replies.

“Vince. Dave. Shelby. Out of the truck now,” Audrey orders.

Vince moves to obey, meekly plucking Dave out of the cup holder. Shelby follows, tripping slightly over her legs.

“Drive,” Audrey demands, Trouble-mode in full swing.

“Driving,” Nathan replies, and does.

* * *

 

The site of the volcano is awful. There are EMTs and cops already there, pulling people away; trying to evacuate. It’s far enough away from the town proper that it hasn’t destroyed any infrastructure, although a couple farms will probably never recover.

The volcano is huge, much bigger than the one that destroyed the library. If Doreen Hanscomb is doing this, something terrible has happened to her.

Nathan’s apparently thinking something along the same lines, because he grabs Officer Tatum’s arm. “Tater, is Doreen Hanscomb here?”

“Not that I’ve seen,” Tater replies worriedly. “She’s really pregnant, isn’t she? I’ll keep an eye out.”

“M- Audrey!” Charlotte calls, running up to her. Dwight wheels along behind her, struggling slightly with the terrain. “What’s going on?”

“Doreen Hanscomb is our suspect, but if her Trouble is in this much overdrive…” Audrey says worriedly.

Charlotte frowns. “We’ll look for her here, if you want to check her house.”

Audrey sighs, nods. “That’s a good plan. Let me know if you need anything. Nathan, call the station and get me her address.”

* * *

 

Audrey knocks. “Haven PD!” she calls. “Is everything all right?”

“Audrey!” Claire shouts from inside. “We need help!”

Duke promptly kicks the door down and they storm inside.

“No, no! Not the cops!” a man yells, pacing. He looks frantic, with hair sticking up at all angles and a nearly manic quality to his movements. He’s holding a gun.

A heavily pregnant Doreen is on the couch, arms around two children. They all look terrified, casting begging looks in Audrey’s direction.

Claire is curled on the ground in the corner, alarmingly pale, with one hand clutched tightly around a badly bleeding wound in her arm.

“What’s going on?” Audrey asks slowly, although her intuition is slowly piecing together a horrifying picture.

“We can’t do this,” the man says anxiously, eyes flicking wildly over the room. “Doreen’s Troubled, and so am I, and now even little Zak- and when the baby comes? We can’t do it, we won’t survive. Not in this town, not again. We can’t survive!”

“Marcus, this town has survived for a long time despite the Troubles,” Nathan says slowly. “We can figure this out, but you need to put the gun down so we can talk about it.”

“There’s no way,” Marcus says hysterically. “We’ll just be separated, one by one, as our Troubles kill… No point. No point waiting.” His eyes alight on Duke. “You... you could… Kill us, please. To spare the rest of our relatives. Kill us all.”

Duke looks aghast, but says, “Yeah, okay. Just give me the gun and I’ll go ahead and do that.”

Marcus shakes his head, planting his free hand on his brow. “No! Use one of the cops’ gun.”

Duke grimaces. “Look, the truth is, I’m not active. It wouldn’t work even if I did.”

Marcus lets out a high-pitched moan. “Don’t try to trick me. Don’t you see? You have to do it. We’re not going to survive anyway. If I have to traumatize you first…”

Duke takes a hasty step to stand between Nathan and the gun. Nathan responds by moving to the side.

“Marcus, it doesn’t have to be like this. You love your family,” Claire says weakly from the floor. “Please. If you let them handle this, it’ll all be okay.”

“Nothing’s ever okay in this town!” Marcus exclaims hysterically. “It’s not okay. We can’t survive. And I won’t let us be separated. We’ll go together.” He turns toward his family, gun flicking up again. “Don’t be scared. We’ll go together. It’ll be quick.”

“Marcus, honey, no,” Doreen says shakily. “We want to live.”

“No, no, no. You think you do, but not in Haven. Not like this,” Marcus says. “We have to go. We have to die. I’ll be right behind you.”

Nathan tackles him around the knees, and the gun goes off as Marcus hits the ground.

“Is anyone hit?” Nathan shouts, cuffing Marcus.

Doreen’s crying with relief and horror. “N-no,” she whimpers, pointing to the wallpaper. “It hit the wall. We’re okay.”

Audrey calls the station. “Laverne, send us an ambulance and some more cops, we’ve got an attempted family annihilator.” She rattles off the address while walking toward the kitchen, grabbing a towel, and going to Claire. “Claire, you all right?”

Claire groans weakly. “I’ve lost a lot of blood.”

Audrey can see that by the amount on the carpet. “Ambulance is on the way. You’re gonna be fine.”

“He tried to shoot the kid. I went for the gun…”

“Good job, Claire,” Audrey says soothingly, pressing the towel to the still-bleeding wound.

Claire groans. “No. Couldn’t talk him down…”

“No one could have,” Audrey says. “You kept him from shooting long enough for us to take him down. You saved his family’s lives.”

“How’d… you find us?” Claire asks, eyelids flickering.

“Doreen sent up a distress signal,” Audrey says just as she hears the sirens. “There’s the ambulance, Claire. You’re going to be fine.”

Claire hums faintly.

“You can’t put Marcus in jail,” Doreen says quietly. “His Trouble… It’s not safe.”

“We’ll figure something out,” Nathan reassures her.

Paramedics and cops flood the room all at once. Audrey stays with Claire as they load her up.

“She needs a blood transfusion, pronto,” one paramedic calls to another. “Call the hospital, tell them to get it ready.”

“Nathan’s a universal donor,” Audrey says, pointing. “Stick ‘im.”

“Isn’t he gay? He can’t give blood,” the paramedic says. “Federal law.”

Nathan grimaces. “I’m _clean_.”

“Doesn’t matter. Sorry. I don’t make the rules,” the paramedic says apologetically.

“Sure you do! Stick him, claim ignorance later,” Audrey says.

The paramedic shakes his head. “Ain’t worth my job, Officer. Ma’am, what’s your blood type?”

Claire mumbles incoherently, barely conscious. The other paramedic puts a pressure pack on the wound.

“Claire’s A-neg,” Nathan says.

“Great. Send it in!” he calls to the driver. “We gotta go. One passenger only.” Audrey hops in and the doors close.

* * *

 

The hospital is in chaos.

Claire is sent to the ICU (the trauma ward is full) and there are a few injured children sharing her room. The Pediatric ICU is currently acting as an overflow Inpatient Psychiatric Unit. Once she makes sure that Claire is being promptly treated, she walks outside, pulls out her phone, and dials.

“Jordan? It’s Audrey.”

“How did you even get this number?” Jordan asks, annoyed.

“Not important right now,” Audrey says. “Listen, did you hear what happened with Marcus Hanscomb?”

“The guy whose wife created a volcano on the outskirts of town and nearly outed the Troubles?”

“Yeah, that happened because he was threatening to kill her and their kids,” Audrey says. “He’s Troubled; can’t go to jail. We need the Guard to take care of it.”

There’s a suspicious silence on the line. “Who told you that I’m in the Guard?” Jordan finally asks. “Did Dwight say something?”

“Jordan, for fuck’s sake,” Audrey says, annoyed.

“I’ll get someone on it, if they’re not already,” Jordan says. “I am not your backup. Leave me alone.”

“Believe me, I would like to be able to,” Audrey replies.

Jordan snorts and hangs up. Audrey grins a bit- when neither of them is trying to screw Nathan, it turns out she actually rather likes Jordan- and slides her phone into her pocket.

“Mara.”

Audrey turns. “Hi, Mother. How’s the volcano?”

“Gone, but there were some casualties,” Charlotte says. “Your medical examiner seems quite distressed. I’m surprised to find myself saying this, but I quite miss Dr. Verrano.”

“How many casualties?”

“Five, that we know of,” Charlotte says. “Oh, and Dwight says to let you know that he dealt with the mummy situation.”

Audrey nods, running a hand through her hair _(Mary Drake, whose hair was terribly frizzy)_. “Claire’s hurt. The woman who made the volcano- Doreen- her husband went all family annihilator. Claire got in his way. She’ll be okay, though, they think.”

“I see,” Charlotte says. “If you’d like me to look at her file, I’d be happy to.”

Audrey nods again. “If you have time. Thanks.”

“So the escalation of her Trouble had nothing to do with William.”

“Just trauma. It happens,” Audrey says. “Serious trauma.”

“Apparently, as the response was even worse than William’s interference.”

She snorts. “Well, it’s not like William’s actually good at this.”

Charlotte raises a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. “It always strikes me as strange when you act elitist about your skill with cursing people.”

“He only made one original Trouble. Which bonded to stress,” Audrey points out in, admittedly, a slightly superior tone. Stress is the easiest emotional trigger to bond a Trouble to, as it is both volatile and universal. It’s also much more easily controlled than some, as the Driscoll brothers handily demonstrated with their breathing exercises. As far as Trouble bonds go, it’s essentially elementary.

“Yes, yes, dear, you’re the undisputed queen of supernatural destruction,” Charlotte says patronizingly.

“Retired,” Audrey states firmly.

Charlotte nods. “Yes, of course. Well, I’m glad you’re all right. I’ll go in and see about your friend.”

Audrey goes with her. It takes several minutes to pull a receptionist aside and get Claire’s room number, as the hospital is a disaster. Eventually, though, they manage it and walk into the room.

“Claire. I’m Dr. Charlotte Cross,” Charlotte says. “How are you feeling?”

“Stupid,” Claire replies, rather fiercely. “But I’m fine. They patched me up.”

Audrey grabs her hand. “Claire, you saved that family. Those kids.”

“You saved them. And me. I failed to talk him down and got myself shot,” Claire points out. She’s trembling slightly. “Doreen called, said Marcus was being erratic, that she was worried… I thought it was just anxiety, I didn’t realize- I didn’t even tell anyone where I was going! I had no idea, and I couldn’t…”

Claire’s trembling more now, and her chin is twitching.

Audrey wraps an arm around Claire. “It’s okay. You’re okay; he can’t hurt you.” Charlotte slips delicately out of the room with Claire’s chart.

“I should have known he was a danger,” Claire mutters. “It’s my job… God, I shouldn’t be falling apart like this; you’re my client…”

“Have I ever paid you a dime for therapy?” Audrey asks. “We’re friends, and it’s okay. What just happened is terrifying. It’s okay to be freaked out. Claire, this wasn’t your fault. You couldn’t have known.”

“If you hadn’t showed up, he’d’ve killed me. All of us,” Claire replies quietly, wiping fiercely at her eyes. “I had no idea… But I can’t stop. Not now. I have to keep doing this- even though it could happen again. How can I do that while being this terrified? How do you?”

“Sometimes I do this because I’m terrified,” Audrey admits, feeling her inner Mara flash her teeth, “because it’s the only way I have to give myself power. I hate cowering.”

Claire nods, wiping her face again. “God, you’re a client, I shouldn’t be…”

“I am not a client. No exchange of money, no consistency in office setting, no signing of papers. Let’s just agree that we’re friends and I’m just generally more emotionally needy than you are. That way I don’t owe you thousands of dollars and you don’t get your license revoked for having once given me a bra. Oh, did that happen here?”

A tiny smile manages to make it onto her face. “Okay. No official therapy… You keep staying stuff like that. What happened here, what happened there. So we’re having one of those things where my memories are different than yours?”

Audrey squints. “Oh. Yeah. My bad, I forgot you didn’t know. Nathan and Duke do, and Charlotte, but that’s it.”

“This is a Trouble. And if it gets bad enough, you can fix it and reset,” Claire says.

“I’m not planning on it,” Audrey says. “But yeah, I could.”

Claire nods. “Okay. Well, good. I’m glad we have an out, if things get really bad.”

“Things are really bad back there too,” Audrey says grimly. Besides which, the cost...

“The main problem isn’t the Troubles, not directly,” Claire says. “The problem is the panic. The Troubles ended; people restarted their lives. They’re settled into normal lives, but still very afraid. People just aren’t ready to do this again, and the fear, the desperation… People are more resilient than they think they are, so they’ll eventually settle in for the long haul again, but I think it’ll still get worse before it gets better. And it’ll never be the same.”

“Haven can survive anything,” Audrey says. She would know- in its infancy, she tried every trick in the book to destroy it.

“Not without consequences,” Claire replies. “Lots of consequences. Oh, and yes, I did give you a push-up bra. And, yes, that would generally be a flagrant violation of therapist-client boundaries. Oh, well.” The oldest of the kids sharing the room, a boy in the beginning stages of puberty, is listening in with a very interested expression. Claire pauses, then adds, “Is it true that some of the Troubles are new, non-inherited?”

“Yes,” Audrey replies stiffly. “I’m not talking about how that happened.”

“A look of guilt just flashed across your face,” Claire says softly. “Are you sure you don’t want to talk about it?”

“If I’m feeling guilty, we’re doing okay,” Audrey mutters. “I really don’t, but thanks, I guess.”

The door opens and Nathan and Duke walk in.

“Claire, are you all right?” Duke asks.

Claire shrugs. “More or less.”

“Sorry about the transfusion thing,” Nathan mutters.

“It isn’t your fault. It’s an exceptionally dumb law,” Claire says. “Actually I think the blood bank is quite low right now, but I have friends in high places.”

“Not that high,” Duke says. “You’re all pasty. They didn’t give you much.”

Claire does not roll her eyes, but it looks like a close thing. “I’m fine. I should probably free up the bed now. I know they’re having capacity issues.” She nods decisively and sweeps back the sheets. “Or, wait, I’ll leave when I get clothes. Mine were all bloody; they threw them out.”

Audrey forces herself to stop appreciating Claire’s legs. “Okay. Is there anyone who can bring over a set?”

A small wrinkle appears between her eyes. “Um, possibly, but everyone’s very busy right now and… Oh, this is what I get for being a workaholic.”

“Hang on,” Audrey sighs, pulling out her phone and placing a call. “Are you still at the hospital?”

“Yes,” Charlotte replies. “I still have Dr. Callahan’s chart. She’ll be fine, by the way.”

“Okay, return the chart and go get her some clothes.”

“I have no clothes in this universe, except what I brought with me.”

Audrey frowns. “I’ll have some packed up in my apartment, or you can break into Claire's apartment or buy some or… steal some from Jordan or something.”

“Please don’t steal from Jordan,” Claire says, sounding mildly alarmed. “She has been known to overreact.”

The call ends as Charlotte walks into the room, replacing the chart. “I do not want to steal from Jordan,” Charlotte says. “We do not have enough bridges to burn them unnecessarily. But I’ll go find clothes.” She sweeps elegantly from the room.

Claire watches her. “She seems… odd,” she notes. “You three should go. I’m sure there are already nine emergencies that require your immediate attention. I’ll let you know when I’m out and back on the job.”

“You got shot by a client, Claire,” Nathan points out. “You can take a day off.”

“Trust me, nothing good happens when I wallow,” Claire replies. “Like I said, workaholic. Speaking of which, go- I’ll be fine.”

“Do you want a police escort?” Nathan asks. “Just in case?”

“I- yes, actually,” Claire says, embarrassedly. “I know you can’t really spare anyone…”

Nathan waves a hand. “How do you feel about Tater? He’s not much for solving Troubles, but he’s got decent reflexes and a gun.”

Claire nods. “That will help. Thanks.”

Nathan nods and calls the station. “Hey, send Tater over to escort Claire- What? Is he all right? Okay. What about Ali Gonzalez and Shelby Zimmerman? Okay. Okay, we’ll be right there.”

“That looks like a problem-face,” Duke says worriedly. “What did Shelby get herself into?”

“She and Vince Teagues have been kidnapped,” Nathan replies.


	4. Of Blame and Responsibility

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter contains violence, including brief implied domestic violence.

Nathan repeats Dave’s story quickly on the drive to the crime scene. Vince, mini-Dave, and blow-up doll Shelby found Ali Gonzalez. While attempting to convince him to return their bodies to normal, they were jumped by two angry men Dave didn’t recognize. Dave, two inches tall, was able to hide behind a nearby corpse of a leprechaun. One man put a knife to Shelby’s throat and threatened her life, ordering Vince to get into the back of a van driven by a third man. Ali attempted to knock the knife away from Shelby, and was shot in the chest by the second man. The men successfully forced Vince and Shelby into the van and drove away. Shortly thereafter, Ali succumbed to his injuries, reversing his Trouble and returning Dave to his normal size. Dave went to the police station to report the situation. It has been about twenty minutes since the kidnapping.

“Duke, tell us about Shelby,” Audrey orders.

“She’s clever- street smart, I mean,” Duke says slowly. “Not the best fence in the business, but she’s got skill. Been in some touchy situations before, but I don’t think she’s the type to put herself in danger unnecessarily.”

“It sounds like Vince was the primary target,” Nathan says.

“From the perspective of Dave,” Audrey points out. “But yes, probably.”

“You know he runs the Guard?” Duke asks.

Audrey nods. _(Sarah Vernon, who’d patted Vince’s back while he sat with his head between his knees, mumbling about his inability to do this. They commiserated about the weight of destiny.)_

“Yeah, I know,” Audrey says as they pull up to the crime scene and jump out. Lucassi’s already there, examining Ali’s injury.

“Small caliber,” Lucassi says brusquely, without looking up from the body. “Probably a .22. Hit some blood vessels and tore through his lung- he didn’t live long. Also, I’m putting in my two-week notice. Or possibly two-hour notice, if that’s okay with you.”

“Compromise to two-day,” Audrey says. “Nathan, hire Gloria.”

“Sure,” Nathan replies. “What else do we know about our kidnappers?”

Lucassi shrugs. “Only one shot, as best we can tell. Sign that the killer didn’t panic, just fired and moved on. Too close-range to tell much about aim, though it’s possible he aimed for and missed the heart.”

“It happened quickly,” Nathan says. “Cleanly. This isn’t someone who’s panicking- not another Dana Rodriguez or Marcus Hanscombe.”

“Probably not a horde of Revlings, then,” Duke says. “Panic is pretty much all they do.”

“Unhappy subordinates?” Nathan suggests.

“It’s Vince Teagues,” Audrey says slowly, with creeping horror. “Vince! He always knows what’s happening and never tells anyone. He’s known for it.”

“You think he’s being interrogated about what’s going on,” Nathan says.

“Does he know what’s happening?” Lucassi asks curiously.

“No,” Audrey replies. “Not the foggiest idea.”

“Except that it involves you and probably someone named William,” Duke points out.

Audrey grimaces. “Well, William’s not here, but sans a last name, this could turn into a…” She doesn’t want to say ‘witch hunt.’

_(Mara, who’d woken up in a forest in a blood-caked smock, a pale and sweaty William above her whispering, “They got close, I barely got to you in time…”)_

“I know,” Duke says grimly. “So, someone- group of someones- who think Vince knows what’s going on with the Troubles and have a decent amount of skill with weapons and kidnapping. I really don’t like where this is going.”

“Yeah,” Audrey replies grimly. “I wonder if Jordan will shoot me if I attempt to bring her in for the third time today. I did get her attacked by pigs earlier.”

“I think Dwight might still have some Guard contacts, but generally he wants nothing to do with them,” Nathan says. “Jordan might be a better bet.”

“You call Dwight; I’ll call Jordan,” Audrey says, pulling out her phone to call Jordan for the second time in forty minutes.

It rings twice and then an abrupt, “Are you kidding me with this shit?”

“Hi, Jordan,” Audrey says ruefully. “Someone kidnapped Vince Teagues.”

“Mazel tov,” Jordan replies nastily.

“Vince Teagues runs the Guard,” Audrey says, in case Jordan’s unpleasant attitude is coming from somewhere else.

“So he does,” Jordan says. “Doesn’t mean I’m his happy little subordinate.”

“We think the kidnappers might be Guard.”

“How wonderful,” Jordan says.

“Have you heard anything?” Audrey asks, growing frustrated.

Jordan sighs and Audrey can just hear the bitter grimace. “If I answer that question, are you going to assume you can just call me whenever you have questions about my people?”

“Look, this is an emergency.”

“It’s always an emergency,” Jordan grumbles.

“You’re calling them ‘your people.’ You really want to your people to be willing to kidnap another human being for making a judgment call they don’t like?”

There’s a pause, and then Jordan mutters, “Frers was running his mouth. He’s an idiot- not more than the muscle, that one- but I’m guessing he’s involved. Now go away and leave me alone.”

“What’s Frers’ story?” Audrey asks.

“Danny Frers. Been in the Guard for a few months. His Trouble isn’t harmful to anyone but him, but the rest of him is dangerous enough.”

“Okay, thanks,” Audrey says. “I’m not going to ask you to help out on this, but I am going to point out that Vince Teagues would owe you a serious favor.”

There’s a long pause, and then a click as Jordan hangs up.

“Danny Frers,” Audrey says.

“Kirk Bowers,” Nathan replies.

“Fuck! Of course!” Audrey hisses. “I know him, sorta! He’s Guard, but he… he had issues with the leadership and took matters into his own hands. He sucks oxygen from the area when he gets stressed and he has a really off-putting neck-to-head ratio. God, I should have figured… Well, whatever, good.”

“I know Danny Frers,” Duke puts in rather reluctantly. “I used to trounce him at cards on a regular basis. I’d bet money that Guy 3 is Danny’s buddy Kurtis Hart- I don’t think Danny can take a shit without Kurtis’ say so.”

Audrey makes a face. “Kurtis Hart,” she repeats, pulling it slowly through her mouth. She’s sure she’s heard the name before, but she can’t place it. She should really start filing names and photos in her phone or something. “All right, put out an APB.”

“Actual police work already feels so foreign again,” Nathan mutters, pulling out his phone. “Done. Tagged them and their vehicles, and all the officers have been sent an alert. Rebecca’s pulling property records, and Dwight’s looking into locations he knows of.”

“Okay, so Frers is the muscle, Kirk is the brains… what does Kurtis Hart bring to the table?” Audrey asks. _And why is that name so damn familiar?_

“He’s always up on Frers- telling him what to do or not do, every little thing. I’d guess he’s giving the orders,” Duke says.

“Okay, I do not see Kirk Bowers taking orders,” Audrey says. “Does Hart boss around everyone or just Frers?”

Duke’s forehead creases. “Now that you mention it, really just Frers. He’s always been pretty chill with me. But with Frers it’s so noticeable…”

It clicks.

“Kurtis Hart!” Audrey hisses excitedly. “I knew I recognized that name! He’s a _sadist_!” In her world, the numb Nathan kept being propositioned by the BDSM crowd. Kurtis Hart was the one the BDSM crowd had disowned for safety and consent infractions, and who Nathan was known to hide in bathrooms to avoid. “Hart’s the torturer!”

“If that’s true, what’s Frers bringing to the table?” Nathan asks. “Three men with guns, holding a smallish lady and an old man hostage. They don’t need a torturer and an enforcer.”

“True. And he shot his mouth off to Jordan, which is never something you want in your kidnapping plot,” Audrey muses. “Plus Kirk’s definitely the planner, and he’s a loner… Frers has got to be providing something practical. Van, or location. Nathan, call the station and have them focus on him.”

Nathan does so.

“Hang on, did we just come to the conclusion that two of my poker buddies are in a gay torture sex arrangement?” Duke asks. Audrey nods impatiently. “Okay, I’m actually weirded out about that, and I am very open-minded. Also, Shelby and Vince may currently be being tortured by a sexual sadist?”

“We’re going as fast as we can,” Audrey says gently.

“Thanks, Laverne. Tell Dwight. Make sure Dave stays put,” Nathan says, hanging up. “Frers’ sister Brittney has a small farm outside of town. Let’s go.”

They jump to, piling back into the Bronco and leaving Lucassi looking depressed over a body in a sheet.

The drive is quick, with some terse exchanges about possible strategies on the way. Audrey takes a moment to appreciate the fact that Duke is absolutely talking like a cop. When they pull up to it, there’s still not a good plan of attack, but when is there ever?

Audrey wishes she could just whistle twice- code for ‘Are you all right?’ developed during the Lucy Years, one Vince is familiar with- but she doesn’t want to explain what’s going on with her memories, and she doesn’t want to deal with his feelings for Sarah.

Instead, she grabs a bigger gun out of the trunk and follows Nathan and Duke across the yard. Nathan kicks in the door.

A woman looks up from the television dully. She blinks, then looks back. An informercial is playing. The woman is middle-aged, maybe forty, but looks much older for the pallor.

“Hi, Brittney,” Duke says gently. “Remember me? My name is Duke. I used to play poker with you sometimes, remember? I thought you left town?”

“I came back. It was supposed to be over. They all said it was over,” Brittney whispers. Her skin is grayish, her fingers and lips stained nicotine yellow. “Why would they say it was over?”

Duke grimaces. “Sorry, Brittney. Can you tell me where your brother is?”

“Finding out what happened,” Brittney says vaguely. “They found him. The man who knows. Kirk said.”

“Kirk’s wrong,” Audrey says fiercely. “He doesn’t know why this is happening. Your brother, Kirk, Kurtis- they’re hurting him for no reason.”

“Do you know?” Brittney asks. “Do you know why this is happening?” She turns, stares at Audrey. Brittney’s eyes are dull, watery, but somehow they still cut straight through her. “It’s because of you. It’s all because of you.”

Duke and Nathan look at her, waiting for her to deny the heinous accusation. She doesn’t.

“I’m going to die,” Brittney says dully. “Danny too. Our Trouble- our bodies are falling apart. We can’t survive more than a few months like this, and we haven’t recovered enough… It’ll be soon. Whatever you did, you killed us both.”

Audrey suddenly realizes whose blood Brittney carries.

_(Mara, who pressed her hand to the skin of a woman named Tawnie Everson- a woman who threw her sister onto the street for becoming pregnant out of wedlock and doomed her nephew to be stillborn on a street to a mother too impoverished to feed herself. Mara, who’d known perfectly well that Tawnie’s children and grandchildren and great-grandchildren would carry the curse too and not cared. Mara, who’d cursed an entire bloodline of innocents and called it justice.)_

Mara, who still lives inside her and isn’t sorry. Mara, who insists in Audrey’s head that Tawnie had it coming.

“Brittney, where are Danny and the others?” Nathan asks. “Are they in the house? The barn? The storage shed?”

“They really can’t learn anything to save us,” Brittney says, resigned. “Very well, then. The shed.”

There’s nothing Audrey can do to save her. It’s much too late for that.

Instead, she nods briskly. “Thank you.” And strides out the door, toward the shed. Nathan and Duke fall into step behind her.

“Oh, look,” Duke says mildly. “Guns away, everyone.”

Audrey turns. Dwight, Charlotte, and Jordan are heading their direction. Jordan is wearing a medium shade of pissed off, and Audrey makes a note to try to stop calling her.

“I have Tasers,” Charlotte offers, extending a bag. They each grab one.

“Shed,” Nathan reports.

“It’s quiet,” Dwight points out. “No shouting. Good, but let’s get in there. Somebody kick the door in.”

Duke volunteers immediately, hastily- Audrey suspects that he’s just volunteering so Nathan won’t. But he cracks the door open efficiently enough.

“Drop the knife,” Nathan says, his badge in one hand and a Taser in the other.

Kurtis Hart turns slowly away from where Shelby is tied to the chair. There’s blood running down her face and on her arms, and it’s clear that Kurtis is aroused.

Jordan makes a sharp noise. “Fucker,” she hisses.

Vince is tied to a chair nearby, with Kirk looming behind him. Vince is also bleeding. Kirk appears to be unarmed. Danny is sitting in a chair nearby. He’s unhealthy, dying, but much better than his sister- there’s still a gleam of motivation in his eyes.

“It’s okay, Kurtis,” Audrey says gently. “I know you did this for Danny. Because you want him to live. I know about you two. It’s okay. You don’t want to lose him, and you think Vince has the answers. I understand. But Vince doesn’t have the answers, and neither does Shelby. So you need to put the knife down now.”

Kurtis blinks, and glances at Danny with a sort of vague surprise on his face. Audrey realizes that it was never about Danny for him. That he’s not here for his lover.

“Yes,” Kurtis says blankly. “Yes, I… Danny, he’s so sick, and- and I thought I could save him, you know, so it was, uh, very emotionally intense. And, and normally, you know, this is reprehensible, but with the extenuating circumstances, I just… snapped.”

It’s disgustingly clear that he’s searching for words to build a legal defense.

“Yes, of course,” Nathan says. “And we’ll take all of that into account, but I need you to drop the knife.”

Kurtis drops it. Kirk hisses angrily from behind Vince.

“Sorry, I didn’t even realize I was still holding it,” Kurtis says earnestly to Nathan. “It’s just been… extreme, emotionally, what with trying to protect Danny-” His eyes flicker to Duke, then back to Nathan. “You understand that, I’m sure.”

Cracks appear in Nathan’s poker face, but he keeps it together. “It’s perfectly reasonable to want to protect someone you care about,” he says, only choking on it a little. “It can be very hard when someone you love is sick.”

Danny’s smiling, with tears in his eyes. His thick clothes don’t cover all the scars on his body. “It’s okay, Kurtis. I love you. It’s all going to be okay.”

Kirk Bowers makes an aggravated noise and grabs either side of Vince’s head. “Leave or I’ll snap his neck.”

Dwight nonchalantly hits him with the Taser. Kirk falls, twitching and yelping.

“Okay,” Nathan says. “Jordan, Charlotte, untie Vince and Shelby. Kurtis, Danny, stay where you are.” He tosses Audrey a pair of handcuffs. She walks over to Danny, and puts them on- tightly enough that he can’t slip out, but not too tightly. Danny doesn’t look too bothered about the arrest. He’s busy staring lovingly at Kurtis. The marks on his skin, ranging in age, are even more visible up close.

“You’re under arrest,” Audrey tells him. For all the good it’ll do. He has weeks left, if that.

“Kurtis said he cares about me,” Danny says, smiling. “He’s never said, before.”

Audrey sighs and pats his arm. She has a whole spiel that she does in domestics, but there’s no point in using it here, and she’ll let a dying man keep his fantasy.

Nathan cuffs Kurtis and starts to lead him out the door. He glances at Jordan, a sick smile on his lips.

“You touch me, and one way or another, I swear to god you’ll regret it,” Jordan says quietly, a hard-edged glare on her face.

Dwight reaches out and touches her bare hand. “You’re safe,” he says quietly. “Hey, Duke, can you haul Bowers?”

Duke does, grunting a little with the effort, so Jordan assists. Dwight wheels after them, and Danny follows without prompting. Charlotte and Audrey bring up the back, and they push all the arrestees- including the barely conscious Kirk- into the back of the Bronco.

“Figures,” Duke grouses when they’re done. “Finally find another queer couple in this town, and one of them’s a sociopath.”

“Yeah,” Nathan says faintly. “Thanks for not being into torturing people.”

“You got it, babe.”

Audrey breaks away from the group and heads back into the house.

Brittney looks up. “You again. Did you arrest my brother?”

“Yes,” Audrey says. “Thank you for your help. I’ll do what I can about your brother’s legal situation.”

Brittney shrugs. “It doesn’t matter. He doesn’t have long.”

Audrey bites her lip. “You were right,” she confesses quietly. She says the words she refuses to say to Nathan, or Duke, or Claire: “This is all because of me.”

“Why?” Brittney asks.

Audrey laughs, a small, humorless huff. “Love. Hate. Justice. Ambition. Compassion. Revenge. Survival. Fear. Fury. Not in that order. There are… there were a lot of reasons.”

“Were any of them worth it?” Brittney asks without inflection. “Was any of it worth it?”

No one’s ever asked her that before, at least not in any capacity that led her to actually answer.

“I don’t know,” she finally says. It’s not the right answer- can’t be the right answer, but it’s all she has. “If I hadn’t I would have been powerless, and…” And she won’t be powerless.

“I’m going to die,” Brittney says. “Weeks. Days, maybe. I’m going to die alone and my brother’s going to die a few weeks later in a jail cell.”

“I can get someone to stay with you,” Audrey offers. “Toward the end.”

Brittney shakes her head. “No. I don’t mind, and I don’t want a stranger. I just wanted you to know.”

“Okay,” she says quietly. “I won’t forget.”

Brittney goes back to watching her show- Maury, now. Audrey steps out into the foyer. Charlotte’s there, clearly having been eavesdropping. She is completely unabashed at having been caught.

“You didn’t apologize,” Charlotte says quietly. “Not really.”

“I wasn’t right, but I’m not sure I was wrong,” Audrey says. “You remember how it was. Was I supposed to do nothing? Would that really have been the right thing?”

“Perhaps your options were not only ‘do nothing’ and ‘attempt to burn the town to the ground and salt the ashes.’ There was a time when there was a line, for you,” Charlotte reminds her.

“I was trying to help, and the town would have killed me for it,” Audrey points out angrily. “Some of them tried. Some of them did worse. Some of them killed Father.”

“Do you honestly believe I do not remember?” Charlotte asks.

Audrey scoffs. “How could I tell? You’re not angry about it, but hell, you weren’t then. How can I tell if you forgot or if you just never cared?”

Charlotte rolls her eyes. “Honestly, Mara, stop getting so fired up over everything.” She pauses. “The woman who assisted today- Jordan- she called me a pod person. Is this a common opinion?”

“Oh my god, Mother, you have the emotional depth of a Roomba,” Audrey says flatly. “How do you not know that?”

“Just because I’m more controlled and sensible than most does not make me less deep,” Charlotte says. “Honestly, people get so attached to their irrationality.”

Audrey grips the roots of her hair in frustration _(Mary Drake)_. “Okay, Jordan definitely got it on the money.”

Charlotte hums. “Jordan. I recognize the name. She’s the one who dated Nathan, then shot him, right?”

Audrey sighs. “That’d be her, yes.”

“Well, she seems impulsive, and extremely angry,” Charlotte says archly. “It seems that Nathan has a type. Though it clearly does him no favors.”

Audrey barks out an incredulous laugh. “Wow, Mother. If I made a comment like that about you, you’d call me petty.”

Charlotte ignores this. “Though he’s dating Duke now, and Duke seems perfectly reasonable. Tell me, are you ever planning to tell Nathan that he’s supposed to love you?”

“What?” Nathan asks, shocked, from the door. Duke’s standing behind him, jaw unhinged.

Audrey groans, putting her face in her hands. “Nothing. Pay no attention.”

“What does she mean?” Nathan asks. “Does she mean that I have- I have feelings for you in your reality?” He looks acutely horrified, and Audrey tries not to be offended.

She swallows, then swallows again. “Yes,” she finally says quietly. “We’re- we were together, but it wasn’t working and we were both miserable.”

“We dated?!” Nathan asks. “ _Why_?”

“You’re Troubled. She’s immune,” Charlotte contributes quietly.

Duke lets out a shaky breath. “And you didn’t break up,” he says. “As far as you remember, your relationship ended because of this reality, not because- It’s unfinished business.”

“No. No, it’s finished,” Audrey says. “It’s finished because we were going to break up anyway and we’re not going back.”

“You’re so certain of that, are you?” Charlotte demands. “How many cases have you worked today? How quickly is this town falling apart? Or is that still what you want?”

Audrey turns to face Charlotte, staring at her. “Get out,” she says in a low voice. “Before I get angry and impulsive.”

Charlotte tosses her hair, huffs, and strolls calmly out.

“She said I was supposed to be in love with you,” Nathan whispers, horror in his eyes.

“It’s okay. You don’t have to,” Audrey says. Against her will, tears sting at the edges of her eyes at the looks on their faces.

“I’ve never thought of you that way,” Nathan says. He turns to Duke, with a look of desperation on his face, terrified that Duke won’t believe him. “Not once. And just to be clear, I am bisexual, this isn’t a gender thing. She’s- you’re my partner! That’s… that’s so inappropriate.”

Audrey snorts. “Yeah. Look, Charlotte, she was right about that, at least- sort of. You were numb. You hadn’t felt anything in years, and it was isolating, and sad, and- I’m immune to the Troubles. When I touched you, you felt it, and that was- that wasn’t all of it, but that was the catalyst. You didn’t see me like that before you found out.”

“That can’t be all of it,” Duke says quietly. “That’s not enough.”

“It wasn’t,” Audrey says. “We’re friends, and partners, and there’s trust and understanding and things in common. But ultimately that wasn’t enough either. Now, I think- well, I think you’re hanging on mostly because you decided that we’re going to work and you’re so stubborn about it all; you’ve decided that you’ll persist anyway. And I’ve lost so much already, but… We’re- we’re just wrong for each other, as it happens.”

She’s shaking. It’s only been a few days for her, and Duke’s right- it’s all too unfinished. She’s used to Nathan looking at her with devotion thickly plastered over revulsion, with only the occasional crack to reveal the mirage. She’s been calling it ‘the glacial breakup,’ but the ice hasn’t calved. Nathan hasn’t snapped (she’s a murderer, she’s wrong, she’s a recovering monster and he can’t handle it) and Audrey hasn’t snapped (he doesn’t know her, he doesn’t want to, he thinks he can decide who she is and she can’t handle it) and somehow Duke has been patiently not killing either of them through this. Now Nathan is staring at her with shock and dismay and Duke is gripping Nathan’s hip with a possessive furor.

Audrey takes a moment to remind herself that this is still more than she deserves.

She’s been given a reprieve from the slowly sinking ship, but there’s no closure. Fortunately for her, she’s well-practiced at lack of closure, with a few dozen Hunters behind her.

“Are you in love with him?” Duke asks, heavily. There’s no alarm on his face, just gritted determination.

“Yes. And it’s more complicated than that,” Audrey says. It’s as honest as she can be about any of her feelings, these days.

Duke lets out a tight sigh. “Are we gonna have to duel? Because I think I could take you.” He says it in a jokey voice, but he’s wound up tight- every muscle tense, the stance and balance of a fighter, and she suspects he absolutely throw down with her over this.

“Dueling won’t help. I still have free will, and all,” Nathan points out irritably, grabbing Duke’s hand off his hip and lacing their fingers together. “Duke. Nothing has to change. Calm down.”

“Your partner, and our friend, is- is-”

“Not gone, which we thought she was three days ago,” Nathan points out. “Not trying to hurt us, which has happened.”

“And not actually pushing for anything,” Audrey says. “I didn’t mean for you to find out. And definitely not like this. If you want to pretend this never happened, great. If you want to do anything else, fine too- your call. But I’m not planning to do anything differently than I have been.”

Dwight raps on the doorframe. “Hey. I’ll take the kidnappers back to the station. Could you drive Vince and Shelby back in?”

“Sure,” Nathan replies, tone making it distinctly clear that Dwight is not welcome in this conversation.

Dwight nods briskly and leaves.

“Come on,” Audrey says quietly. “Let’s do that. Then we can get dinner and talk more. Or not, it’s up to you.” She doesn’t own much, but she’d bet most of it on them picking the option where they don’t talk about their feelings.

Nathan nods, and he and Duke steer around and out the door without Duke relinquishing his grip on Nathan’s hand. Audrey sighs and follows them.

Shelby immediately raises an eyebrow at Duke and Nathan. “Oh. He’s… manlier than expected.”

“If you wanna have a problem with me, have it later. I’m tired,” Duke tells her.

“Oh, no, no, we’re good,” Shelby says. “Just had no idea, is all. Though you did always use way too much hair product for a straight guy… He’s cute. Nicely landed.”

“You leave my hair alone,” Duke says. “And yes, thank you. Where do you wanna go?”

“Oh, I’m staying at the Peachtree Bed & Breakfast,” Shelby says. “Around there.”

“That’s near the offices of the _Herald_. We can drop you both off there,” Nathan says. “C’mon, let’s go.”

They load into the Bronco, and take the short, awkward trip back to town. Audrey spends most of it staring out the window and shooting very mean looks at Vince whenever he catches her looking vulnerable.

Vince and Shelby get expelled from the vehicle.

“I don’t think we should get dinner,” Nathan says quietly, and predictably. “I’m not mad, but I don’t want to talk.”

“Okay,” Audrey says. “Duke, will my apartment key work?”

“Yeah, but-” Duke and Nathan have a brief and entirely nonverbal conversation. “There’s plastic on everything, and it’ll take a few hours to make it livable again. Don’t worry about it right now. It’s been a long day. Grab some clothes, and come crash on the Rouge.”

She knows better than to ask if he’s sure. “Okay. Thanks. For now, can you drop me at the station?”

“Right, yes, you owe me that report on Gretchen Forland,” Nathan says. “Will do. Be creative.”

“Yeah. I’m thinking trained attack pigs,” Audrey says.

“Won’t be the weirdest report I sign off this week,” Nathan says. “Still trying to figure out what to write about the velociraptor attack.”

Audrey snorts. “We assisted with a disturbance at a civilian’s domicile. Mitch can deal with the rest with his insurance company.”

“You should add ‘reptile-related disturbance’ just to make it perfectly clear to anyone reviewing it that it’s one of those cases they really shouldn’t ask questions about,” Duke says.

“One of these days, I’m gonna make a comment about how much you know about filing cop paperwork in this town,” Nathan says dryly.

“And when that day comes, I will resent that implication.”

Nathan stops in front of the station. “While you’re here, might as well make that badge on your belt official,” he says nonchalantly. “We, uh, didn’t quite get around to declaring you legally dead, so you should just have to sign some reinstatement papers. Laverne will have them.”

“Oh, right, not actually a cop right now,” Audrey says contemplatively. “Will do.” She hops out and the Bronco drives off. She walks into the station.

“Audrey!” one of the cops exclaims- she still doesn’t know his name- runs up to her. “Oh, it’s so great to see you!”

“Hey!” she says, smile on her face. “It’s nice to be here.” Somehow, it’s still true.

He beams at her. “Sorry the town had to throw such a hectic welcoming party. You know how it is here.”

“Oh, don’t apologize about that,” Audrey says, because honestly, how ridiculous. “Speaking of which, though, I do need to write a report and talk to Laverne about paperwork. Good to see you, though.”

“Yeah, of course. Write the report first- Laverne’ll want to talk your ear off. Have a good night!”

Audrey waves at him, still wondering who he is, and walks off in the direction of her office. On the way, three more uniformed officers beam and wave at her, and it occurs to her that this is the first time she’s been in the station in this reality.

When she opens the door to her office, a large glittering banner spelling out ‘Welcome Back, Officer Parker!’ is dangling from the ceiling. There are several multicolored paper streamers tied to things about the room. Someone has cleaned and organized her desk, and her favorite coffee mug is sitting by the monitor. There is a platter of red velvet cupcakes under saran wrap next to her keyboard, and a few bags of her favorite blend of coffee.

It wasn’t Nathan who did this- although this is the sort of thing that might bring out his inner cheeseball, he’s been as busy as she has. The whole department’s been incredibly busy. She’s not sure who could have found the time to do this, but she’s touched.

Soft smile still on her face, she grabs the form and a cupcake (the latter of which is delicious). She quickly fills out the incident at Farmer Forland’s, making sure to detail it with the appropriate amount of subtle sorrow. She does, indeed, report officially that Gretchen Forland had trained several pigs to attack on command.

When the report and the cupcake are finished, she goes to find Laverne. “Hi, Laverne.”

“Audrey, doll!” Laverne exclaims, pulling Audrey in for a tight hug. “Welcome back!”

“Thanks,” Audrey says when she manages to extricate herself from Laverne’s cleavage. “Here’s the report. Also, can you reinstate me?”

“Of course, hon, of course. Sit down, let me just grab those forms…” Laverne trails off, staring at the report. “The strange case of the battle pigs. I’m sure the selectmen will be thrilled.”

“They were terrifying. There are witnesses,” Audrey says very seriously. Laverne harrumphs and begins walking to the cabinet, slowly and painfully.

_(Lucy Ripley, who’d been there when it happened, who’d tried to figure out how to put pressure on the wound without making it worse, who’d called Garland Wuornos from the hospital to tell him that he needed to get someone to design a form for officers who’d been impaled in the line of duty, who’d helped Laverne pick out her first wheelchair.)_

But Laverne hates very little as much as pity, so Audrey lets her grab the form and bring it back. She signs her name- one of her names- on the lines Laverne indicates.

“Welcome back to the team,” Laverne says. “We’ve missed you, darlin.’ Why, just last week, Officer McCoy was commenting on how much better you would have handled the thing with that bear-”

There’s a rap on the doorframe. “Sorry to interrupt,” Claire says cheerfully. “My police escort has to file paperwork.”

“Dr. Callahan, doll, I heard what happened to you,” Laverne says sympathetically. “So pale, you poor thing. You should eat some rich foods.”

“Yeah, about that. Audrey. Let’s get dinner,” Claire says. It’s clearly more of an order than an offer.

Laverne glances down at the Battle Pigs report. “That’s a good idea,” she says, though she clearly regrets not being able to finish the bear story. “Bye, hon.”

Claire grabs Audrey by the arm and forcefully steers her out of the room. She’s strong, for someone who was shot today.

“You really are a workaholic, huh?” Audrey asks.

“Did you not get that earlier when I’m not sure who’s my friend and who’s my client?” Claire asks lightly. “You know things are too bad right now to take time off.”

“Claire, you got shot,” Audrey says. “A few hours ago.”

“And I’m slightly stoned on painkillers right now, and haven’t gone anywhere without a nearby police officer since,” Claire says.

“…Should you be practicing therapy on narcotics?”

“Do you have any idea how much of my life was spent in college? I’ve performed under worse impairment, believe me,” Claire jokes. “Come on. Where do you want to get dinner?”

“Not the Gull,” Audrey replies immediately. Claire raises an eyebrow. “Nathan and Duke need a break from me right now. They probably went home, but still.”

“Is that something we should talk about?”

Audrey makes a face. “Probably, but it can wait if you need a break.”

“Nonsense. Let’s go to Alfonso’s and discuss over breadsticks,” Claire says, putting her hand on the small of Audrey’s back and steering her. God, how Audrey’s missed her.

They get to Alfonso’s and load up on breadsticks.

“So. What happened between you and the power couple?” Claire prods.

Audrey flinches a little at the phrasing. “Okay, so in my reality, Nathan and Duke aren’t the power couple.”

Claire blinks. “Oh. Go on.”

“Nathan and I are the power couple.” She confesses it quietly, eyes averted, like it’s shameful. Of all the things she rightly should be embarrassed about, somehow this is the secret that burns coming out.

Claire’s eyes widen and she sits back a little in surprise. “Oh. I didn’t even know that Nathan’s into women. …Oh, dammit, he’s seen me in my underwear.”

Audrey snorts. “He’s plenty into women, although I’m sure he was a total gentleman about the underwear thing. He’s… bi, apparently, although he completely failed to mention that in my world.”

“Are you upset that he didn’t tell you?” Claire asks.

Audrey makes a face. “Given all the shit I haven’t told him, I think we’ll let it slide. Anyway, Duke and Nathan now know that in my reality, I’m the one banging Nathan. They found out accidentally.”

“How’d that happen?”

Audrey takes a bite of breadstick. “Long story short, Charlotte’s also immune and we were discussing it and they overheard.”

“Charlotte’s immune to the Troubles?” Claire asks interestedly.

“Yes, and believe me, I could use therapy about that particular matter as well, but right now let’s not.”

Claire nods. “Okay. So they found out about your history with Nathan, and they need to take a break and process it on their own. Do you think that’s reasonable?”

Audrey nods emphatically. “Yeah, completely. That’s not the issue.”

“What’s the issue?” Claire asks.

Audrey squints into her martini. “Well, Nathan and I never actually got around to breaking up in my world. Though, uh, we were getting there. But he was still firmly entrenched in the denial phase, and I… Everything’s unresolved with me, right now, and I needed someone to lean on. It’s sudden, and I don’t know how to adjust, and Nathan and Duke don’t know how to adjust, and it just leaves us in this really awkward place.”

Claire absorbs all of this. “Why is everything unresolved with you?”

Audrey swallows a hefty dose of martini. “You once booted Jordan from therapy for torturing a man’s balls off, even though it was honestly kinda justified. That means we’re not gonna talk about that.”

Claire raises an eyebrow. “Okay. Give me the sanitized version.”

“My destructive phase came back to bite everyone in the ass, I have all of my memories back, and I now know who I am technically but not at all philosophically.”

Claire reacts to this seriously but non-dramatically, which is a good shrink skill. “That sounds like a difficult transition.”

Audrey nods. “That’s why things were falling apart with me and Nathan. He’s- what did you say earlier?- a moral absolutist. Everything is good or bad, for him, and he’s trying really hard to see me as good, but… like I said, destructive phase. But he doesn’t know about that here, and I’d really prefer to keep it that way.”

“So he knows that some version of him is in the process of ending a relationship with you, but doesn’t know why?” Claire asks.

“He’s not attracted to me here, so I don’t think it’s even occurred to him to ask about that,” Audrey says. “Besides which, ‘we were wrong for each other’ is honest enough.”

Claire takes a bite of breadstick. “How did it feel to say that? That you were wrong for each other? This is someone that, from the sounds of it, you were in a fairly serious relationship with two days ago.”

“Saying it isn’t the problem,” Audrey says. “Living it was the problem.”

“But you don’t have to do this, as long as this Haven remains better than that one.”

Audrey makes a slight face at that. It’s been hectic since the Trouble bomb went off, but not as hectic as it was today. The period of respite caused panic, and panic makes everything worse.

Claire sees it. “Are things still better here?” she asks concernedly.

“For me, yeah,” Audrey says. “And- and for you. But for a lot of the people, in general, maybe not.”

Claire frowns at her breadstick. “We haven’t reached the peak. It’s still going to get worse before it gets better. And when it gets better, it won’t be good. Just… functional. People are afraid, and that makes them very dangerous.”

“Do you know when the peak will happen?” Audrey asks.

“No. And we won’t know when it happens. But when it passes, it will be because someone has begun to establish order. Perhaps the Guard, or the Rev’s old followers. That could easily be worse in its own way, of course- when I say ‘better’ I don’t necessarily mean better.”

“Right,” Audrey sighs. It won’t be chaos that destroys Haven. It will be Haven that destroys Haven. “Order happens, chaos dies down, but the order might also be very bad. And if we tear down that order, more chaos, and so on.”

Claire nods. “That tends to be how things go. You’ve made it clear that things in your Haven are worse for you, personally. How are they for the general people of Haven?”

Audrey closes her eyes briefly and the waiter chooses that moment to show up with their food.

“Another martini,” she asks as he sets the pasta in front of her. The waiter nods at her and whisks off. “It’s panicked,” she says slowly. “People aren’t happy, but they were more prepared than this. And they didn’t have that false hope to lose. It’s bad, but it’s maybe not this bad.”

“You should start rethinking your stance on solving this Trouble,” Claire says quietly.

She can’t. Not while Claire’s sitting here, understanding and on top of things, bandages on her arm and compassion in her eyes.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Claire asks gently.

“You’re great,” Audrey says miserably.

Claire blinks. “Thank you?” And then, “Something happened to me, or between us, in your world. Did I find out about your destructive phase and cut contact? Did I die?” She asks this remarkably professionally.

Audrey grimaces. “You died. And I couldn’t- I couldn’t…”

Claire lets out a very long breath and pats Audrey’s hand. “Okay. Okay.” She pauses, then asks, “Are my patients all right?”

Audrey lets out a choked laugh. “Christ’s sake, Claire. Yeah, someone made sure they all got referred to good therapists. Not as good as you, but I think they’re all right.”

“You don’t have to stay here for me,” Claire says quietly, squeezing Audrey’s hand. “If it’s the right thing, then it’s the right thing.”

“Claire, your life-”

“-Is not worth any more than the other lives we’ve been losing,” Claire says firmly. “How many people have you seen dead or dying today?”

“I don’t want to let you die again,” Audrey says.

“I’m not precisely fond of the idea myself, but you know how to do the right thing even when it’s hard,” Claire says. “I’m great- really excellent- but you know a time might come when even I’m not worth it.”

“It’s not just you,” Audrey says. “Jordan’s dead too. And some other people- Jennifer, Evi, Tommy, Wade…”

“I’m sorry it’s been so hard for you,” Claire says sympathetically. “And for everyone, I’m sure.”

Audrey sighs. “If it gets bad, I know how to find the Troubled man who did this. I have his license plate number and I know what he looks like.”

“Okay,” Claire says. “And in the meantime, we’ll try to keep things from getting that bad.”


	5. Impaled in the Line of Duty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter, like every chapter proceeding it, contains violence. This violence is more drawn-out than previously and against a main character. Also contains some homophobia.
> 
> Also, I plan to update again on Saturday, but I’m taking a GRE that day (4-hour standardized test to determine my future) and my usefulness after that depends wholly on how I do, so it could be a bit late.

Claire and Audrey finish eating and proceed to talk for another few hours, about all kinds of things. Finally, they drive to the Gull and Audrey grabs some clothes- not difficult, as Charlotte’s already been in getting the clothes Claire’s wearing. Claire drives her to the marina, and they part.

Audrey walks onto the Rouge to find Nathan and Duke locked up in their room, the shirt Nathan was wearing earlier tied to the doorknob. She rolls her eyes and grabs a book- angry nature poetry, almost definitely Duke’s. Freckles sits in her lap and purrs contentedly when Audrey scratches her ears. She finally kicks her boots off and lets the wound where her toe once was air out.

It’s just past eleven when Duke and Nathan emerge to make sandwiches. Audrey considers getting up to join them, but she’s comfortable and she suspects that Freckles would take issue. She turns the page and keeps petting the cat.

There are light footsteps in the hall, entering the room where Audrey’s reading. Audrey rolls her eyes.

“Mother, you have got to stop-” Audrey looks up, and it’s not Charlotte. She sits up sharply enough that Freckles jumps off her lap and leaves in a huff. “Who are you?”

“My name is Bianca Torrence,” the woman says. She’s pointing a gun, aimed steadily between Audrey’s eyes. “Where is he?”

“Who are you looking for, Bianca?” Audrey asks carefully. She’s unarmed, and Bianca’s clearly had some kind of training. Getting this far into Duke’s boat without detection takes skill, and she has the aim of a pro.

“I’m looking for Duke Crocker,” Bianca says coolly. “Take me to him.”

“Okay,” Audrey says, because she doesn’t really have another choice. She stands slowly and moves carefully toward the kitchen. “Duke?”

“Hey. You want a sandwich? This salami is good,” Duke calls from the kitchen.

“I do not want a sandwich,” Audrey calls back, moving toward him. “Duke, we have a bit of a situation.”

Bianca’s face twists at the warning and she gestures threateningly with the gun.

“I am too tired for another Trouble. They can call someone else,” Duke grumbles. Audrey steps into the kitchen. Duke immediately notices the look on her face. “Whoa, Audrey- Bianca? What are you doing here? Put the gun down.”

“Duke,” Bianca greets him. “You’re going to do me a favor. You, move to the side.”

Audrey slides along the table, reluctantly giving Bianca a clear shot at Duke. Audrey glances around for Nathan, who’s nowhere to be seen. Belatedly, she notices the distant sound of a shower running.

Bianca pulls a knife from her belt and slides it across the table. “Pick it up,” she orders.

“I’m not active,” Duke says. His voice is remarkably cool, but Audrey can hear the nervousness behind it. “If you’re here for the Crocker curse, I can’t help you.”

“You can,” Bianca counters. “And you will. Pick up the knife.”

Duke does so reluctantly, curling his fingers around the hilt.

“Good,” Bianca says. She re-aims the gun, pointing at Audrey’s leg. “You’re going to come around the table, to this open space here.”

Duke does so, moving very slowly and holding the knife loosely at his side. “Whatever it is, Bianca, there are other ways.”

“It’s too late for that,” Bianca says coldly. “That’s what everyone said. Just wait for the Hunter, Bianca, and everything will be fine. Well, it’s not fine, and I’m done waiting. I won’t make my family keep doing this. It’s time for this to end, and you’re the one who can do that.”

During this speech, the shower cuts off. Audrey watches the spark of awareness in Duke’s eyes when it happens. Now, to stall.

“I can’t help you,” Duke says. “My Trouble went away at the Hunter, and it isn’t back. Are you sure yours is back? Did anything traumatic happen to you?”

Bianca laughs, bitterly. “I’m sure. Believe me, it’s not something I could have missed. I think it was the volcano that did it. Or maybe just the fear. But either way, it’s time to end this.”

“What is it?” Audrey asks. “Maybe we can help. We’re good at that, you know.”

“No. It’s not time for another Band-Aid. It’s time to fix this,” Bianca says. “Do you know it’s not active? Have you been exposed to Troubled blood?”

“Yes,” Duke promptly replies. “Dana Rodriguez, last night. Very Troubled- she caused people to light themselves on fire. It was all very gristly. She tried to shoot herself, but she scraped her skull-”

Audrey notices Nathan peering, alarmed, into the room from a shadowed side hallway and tunes out Duke’s stalling tactics. Nathan nods and dips out of sight again, presumably to go grab weaponry.

When she glances back to Bianca, the armed woman is looking at her. “I’m sorry,” she says, not sounding very sorry. “I need him active. I need him traumatized.”

“He lied about Dana Rodriguez,” Audrey says quickly, eyes trained on the gun. “He definitely went all silver-eyed and spooky when she touched him. Damn near broke her arm.”

Bianca pauses. “What?”

“He’s lying because he doesn’t want to kill you and he thinks that’ll discourage you, but frankly I value my extremities over your pitiful life,” Audrey tells her. “Dana grabbed his arm, he activated and messed up her wrist trying to get her off. I can call the hospital.”

“You will do no such thing,” Bianca says, turning back to Duke. “Is that true?”

Duke hesitates, and Bianca takes it as an answer.

“You lied to me,” she says, flatly. “I don’t appreciate that. Hold the knife out. Hold it out!” Duke raises the blade slowly, anxiety unguarded on his face.

Nathan’s back in the shadows. He can’t rush Bianca now without her getting a couple shots off, and surrender seems unlikely. Audrey signals as much as subtly as she can. He signals back- as soon as she runs at Duke and the knife, he can tackle her.

Bianca begins charging toward the knife, dropping the gun on the way.

Nathan jumps out of the shadows, intending to grab her.

She spots him.

He reaches her.

She grabs him, intending to throw him out of her way, but only succeeds in twisting him.

Audrey sees what will happen an instant before it does. She has no time to tell Nathan to get out of the way, or to tell Duke to drop the knife. She can only take one useless step forward and scream, “NO!”

In her attempt to throw Nathan to the floor, Bianca has pulled him in front of her.

The momentum is too much.

Nathan slides onto the knife.

Duke’s eyes go silver and he pushes, hard. Nathan falls to the floor, Bianca beneath him and the knife embedded in Nathan’s back.

Audrey dives for the gun. “Everybody freeze!” she shouts. She locks her eyes on Duke’s, waiting for them to go back to brown. They do, right on time. “Duke. Get a phone. Call 911.”

“Oh, my god, Nate!” Duke breathes.

“Don’t touch him, Duke, there’s too much blood,” Audrey orders. “Phone. 911. He needs a hospital, now. Nathan, stay where you are. There’s a knife in you, and if you move, you might damage things further. Bianca, I am beyond pissed right now, so you’d best stay right where you are and not make things worse, or I will absolutely shoot you. Got that?”

“No, we need to finish this!” Bianca says, trying to wriggle out from under Nathan.

“Hold still, or I’ll finish this,” Audrey threatens, gesturing with the gun. “And that won’t help your family. Now, I’m going to move and grab those gloves, and you are going to stay right there.” Audrey jogs over, not letting the gun stray far from Bianca, and grabs the rubber kitchen gloves by the sink. She places the gun on the counter, puts the gloves on and goes to Nathan. She kneels beside him, intentionally putting one knee on Bianca’s wrist.

“You’re hurt pretty badly,” she tells him, putting pressure around the wound.

“I don’t feel it,” he says blankly, shell-shocked. “I don’t feel any of it.”

“Okay,” Audrey says. She doesn’t say that this was the assumption that led her to grab the gloves- Nathan’s wearing nothing but sweatpants, and putting her bare hands on his wound would not be kind right now.

The knife is in Nathan up to the hilt, and the blood is flowing despite Audrey’s efforts to put pressure on it.

“Duke, when’s the ambulance gonna get here?” Audrey demands when he’s hung up. “And the cops?”

“Not long,” he says, distantly, staring at Nathan with horrified eyes. “Nate. Nate?”

“I’m here,” Nathan mutters, but his voice is distinctly less focused than before. “My Trouble activated, Duke.”

“Mine too,” Duke says. “What are we gonna do?”

“Hospital, I guess,” Nathan replies foggily.

“Nathan, focus. We need you to stay awake,” Audrey orders. “Duke, go onto the dock, tell the cops and EMTs where to go. Go now!”

Duke stares, horrified, at Nathan for a little longer, before shaking himself out of it and heading up.

“Nathan, talk to me.”

“This is… kinda weird.”

Which was exactly what he said to her that time he was impaled with a wood post during the Groundhog Day Trouble. Just before he died.

Audrey represses the shudder. “Weird how?”

“Vision’s flickering,” Nathan reports. “And it smells… gross.”

Audrey has to agree. The scent of blood is cloying now.

“He’s bleeding on me,” Bianca says. “I’ve got his blood on me. Let me go and I can still get Duke to kill me. Something good can still come from this.”

Audrey leans on Bianca’s wrist. “Nathan. Tell me a story. Tell me about… tell me about coming out to your dad.”

Nathan makes a sound. “‘Cause that’s healing,” he mutters, but he sounds amused. “We were watching baseball and I told him, told ‘im I’m bi. ‘N he said, ‘Son, nothing you ever do with your dick and another consenting grown-up will ever be worth interrupting a Dodgers game.’”

In less terrifying circumstances, Audrey definitely would have laughed, because that’s about the Chiefiest response possible.

“Okay, and then what?” Audrey urges.

“Waited until the game was over. Told him I was seein’ a guy. He kinda grunted and gave me some casserole. Told ‘m it was Duke. Wall cracked. Kinda lost his mind. No Crockers. Dangerous. Parker, you there?”

“I’m here, Nathan,” Audrey says urgently. “Nathan?”

“Can barely hear you,” Nathan mutters. “Over the rushing.”

“You need to stay conscious,” Audrey tells him. “Audrey tells him. "scious,"ind. No Crockers. Dangerous.'have laughed, because that'rht n still come from this.". Just before he “C’mon, Wuornos, stay with me. You know how much Duke’s gonna freak out if you don’t?”

“Audrey,” Nathan mutters softly. “You need to know.”

“What do I need to know, Nathan?”

“Duke. I love him. Really do,” Nathan mumbles. “Needed to know.”

Audrey huffs. “Yes, okay, Nathan, I know. I know you love Duke.”

“Not because of the Trouble. Always. Always.”

“Yeah? When did you first know?” Audrey asks, but that’s apparently all Nathan can give, because he doesn’t answer except to let out a rasping, shuddering breath. “Nathan? Come on, give me something. How’s the vision? Hearing? Nathan!” She can hear sirens. “Wuornos! Stay with me!”

“Let me up,” Bianca says. “Before the cops get here. …Please.”

“Not gonna happen,” Audrey snarls. “You did this!” The sirens get louder, then stop entirely. “Nathan!”

“He’s unconscious, but they’re here,” Bianca says. “I know some emergency medicine, if you let me-”

“I used to be a nurse, and a midwife before that, so you can shut right the hell up,” Audrey snaps. He’s still bleeding, and she can see his nostrils flare with breath. “Hey! We need some help down here!”

Duke gallops down the stairs. “Nate!”

“He just lost consciousness,” Audrey says to the EMTs who come down the stairs at a more reasonable pace. “He’s bleeding a lot, but I’ve kept the pressure on and the knife’s still in. The lady under him is dangerous and has a death wish. How do you wanna do this?”

“Can you handle the lady?” one of the EMTs asks.

“Oh, absolutely,” Audrey says darkly.

“Let me take over the pressure,” she says, kneeling on the other side of Nathan. “The cops will be here in a couple minutes.” Audrey nods and releases the wound, letting the EMT clamp on instead. Audrey hops up, off of Bianca’s wrist, and runs to the sink. She ditches the gloves into the sink, turning on the faucet go clean off the worst of the blood, and grabs the gun.

“Bianca, I’ve got my gun now,” Audrey says. “Duke, watch out for the blood.”

She’s pretty sure he doesn’t hear her. He’s too busy staring, a look of horrified helplessness on his face, at Nathan. The EMT pulls out the knife and drops it onto the carpet as the others put pressure packs on the injury.

The cops come clomping down the stairs, Rebecca in the lead. “Oh, Christ, Chief!” she breathes. She spins toward Audrey. “What do you need?”

Audrey points. “Bianca Torrence. Put her under arrest. And suicide watch.”

“Assault with a deadly weapon of a police officer?” Rebecca clarifies.

“No, you won’t be able to make that stick. Start with breaking and entering; we’ll figure out the rest later,” Audrey says. Rebecca blinks. “This was an attempted suicide-by-Duke.”

“Ah,” Rebecca says. “I’ll take care of it. Make sure someone calls me, if he… with updates.”

Audrey nods, running a hand through her hair. “Yeah. You too, let me know if anything happens. Rebecca- she activated Duke’s Trouble. Try to make sure she doesn’t tell anyone else.” The last part is said in a murmur. Rebecca nods.

The EMTs pull Nathan onto a stretcher, allowing Bianca to escape, gasping for breath. Rebecca immediately jogs over to arrest her.

Audrey walks over to Duke, grabs his arm. “Duke.”

“Oh, god, I did this to him,” Duke breathes.

“No, Duke, you didn’t,” Audrey says. “Come on, they’re getting ready to go, and we need to be right behind them to ride along to the hospital.”

“Only one rides along,” one of the EMTs says.

Audrey makes a face. “Okay. Duke, you’re obviously riding along. Where are your keys?”

“I’ll drive you,” one of the cops says.

She nods gratefully at him and they all move.

* * *

 

The cop drops her off at the hospital. She finds Duke, head in his hands, visibly shaking.

“Have you heard anything?” Audrey asks, sitting heavily beside him. She makes sure not to touch him, covered as she is in Nathan’s blood. The hospital is just as chaotic as when she was here earlier for Claire, despite the much later hour.

“They say it pierced his liver,” Duke says heavily.

Audrey nods. “That’s good news. Not great, obviously, but with that amount of blood, it’s better than a nicked artery.”

“Yeah,” Duke says. “They haven’t given him a transfusion. He’s O-neg, so he can only take that, and they don’t have much…” He sighs heavily into his hands. “I should have dropped the knife.”

“It happened too quickly, Duke,” Audrey says. “It was an instant.”

“I should have dropped it earlier. I didn’t want to stab Bianca either,” Duke points out.

“Duke, how many times have you stayed alive because you had a weapon in your hands? I’m pretty sure it’s a reasonable reflex,” Audrey says.

“Reasonable? My Trouble activated. Nathan’s Trouble activated. Nathan got stabbed, and he’s not- he’s not out of the woods,” Duke says, voice shaking. “Nothing about this is reasonable.”

“I know,” Audrey says. The settle into silence for a few minutes, listening to the ambient hospital noise.

“If he dies, you fix the Trouble. You go back,” Duke says quietly, very seriously. “I don’t care about the rest.”

“Yeah,” Audrey says, caught off guard- as if she would ever do anything else. “Yeah, of course.”

A nurse stops by, looking harried. “Is either of you O negative?”

They both shake their heads.

“He needs a transfusion?” Audrey asks.

The nurse nods. “He could use one, but we don’t have enough to spare it. We’ll try to call in a donor, but at this time of night…”

“We’ll shake the phone tree,” Audrey says. “There’s got to be an O neg cop somewhere.”

“Good. He’s conscious, but mostly incoherent,” the nurse reports. “We’re not done with the surgery. Let us know if you find a donor.”

Audrey nods and pulls out her phone, which promptly starts ringing. She raises an eyebrow and answers it.

“Hey. I heard what happened. What do you need?”

“Hi, Chris,” Audrey sighs. “Are you O negative?”

“No,” Chris Brody replies.

“Do you know anyone who is?”

“Not actually in the habit of asking my friends their blood types,” Chris says apologetically.

Audrey has a thought. “Hang on.” She pulls the phone away from her ear. “Duke. How do you feel about me giving Chris Brody permission to be on your boat without supervision?”

Duke makes an affirmative-sounding grunt, but she’s relatively certain he didn’t actually process the question. Good enough.

“Chris, how much do you know about Duke’s Trouble?”

“Duke’s Troubled?”

“Okay,” Audrey says. “Go onto the Cape Rouge and clean up the blood. Thoroughly.”

Chris pauses for a long second. “Yeah, okay. Will do. Let me know if there’s anything else. Non-traumatizing, that is.”

“Will do. Thanks, Chris.”

“You got it,” Chris says, and hangs up.

Audrey redials. “Rebecca. Is she booked?”

“Of course she is,” Rebecca replies. “I’m more than just a TLC, you know. How’s the Chief?”

TLC, in this case, stands for ‘Token Lady Cop’ and is a running joke among those who fit the description (there are currently seven).

“In surgery. Conscious but incoherent, apparently. They need a blood donor- O negative.”

“I’m not, but I’ll pass it around,” Rebecca says. “One thing about this town: everyone knows their blood type. I’ll get someone out to you.”

“Thanks,” Audrey says. “I’ll let you know.” Audrey hangs up. “Duke, you holding together?”

He gives her an incredulous look.

“Okay, dumb question,” Audrey grants. “He’s conscious. That’s good news?”

“He’s incoherent. And he got stabbed. Because of me,” Duke points out miserably.

“He’s probably incoherent because of the drugs they gave him because we forgot to mention the numbness. He’s taken worse. And it wasn’t your fault,” Audrey says. She would pat him on the shoulder, or put a hand on his leg, but she’s still covered in Nathan’s blood.

Duke lets out a huff. “He’s been Troubled for a while in your reality?”

Audrey nods. “Years. A while before I even knew him.”

“How’d it happen?”

She seriously considers lying to him, as he’s already guilt-tripping near the point of no return, but she finally says honestly, “Apparently he got in a fight with you. You invited him fishing and then it turned out to be a cover for smuggling, so his badge could get between you and the Coast Guard. You started punching each other and he activated. I actually always thought it was interesting- generally it takes a pretty serious trauma to activate a Trouble, especially so early, and his was because… He always cared, about how you thought of him, and I think he hated himself for it for a long time.”

“Oh,” Duke says, casting a lost look toward the linoleum. “I don’t even remember- but it was my fault. Of course it was my fault.”

“It doesn’t matter. You both got over it. He’s okay. He’s gonna be okay this time too.”

There’s a long pause, and then Duke says, “I wasn’t even really surprised, when we lost you to the Barn. Upset, sure, but... But not surprised.”

Audrey squints at him sideways. “Okay?”

“Because I lose everything, eventually,” Duke says slowly, staring at his hands. “Nothing has ever been for keeps, for me. And I’ve learned to live with that.”

He stops, but Audrey knows he’s not done, so she waits patiently.

Finally he says, in a hoarse whisper, “I don’t know how I let this happen, but I really need him.”

“Duke. I’ve seen him shrug off bullet wounds,” Audrey says. “It didn’t get his spine or damage anything too vitally. He’s lost a lot of blood, which we’re working on, and it punctured his liver, which the doctors are dealing with, but he’ll be fine. You do not have to lose him. Unless, of course, you dump him when he comes to because of your Trouble, but that’s a problem that’s in your control.”

Duke lets out a frustrated breath. “I can’t hurt him.”

“You won’t. You haven’t,” Audrey says emphatically. “I mean, you clocked him in the back of the head with a wrench fairly recently, but that wasn’t because of anyone’s Trouble, that’s because you two can both be dumbasses sometimes.”

“A wrench? Is he okay? Why would I do that?”

“Shrugged off bullet wounds, remember? He’s fine,” Audrey says exasperatedly. “As for why, I believe it’s something to do with the fact that you’re both rugged masculine types who can’t talk about your feelings. Seriously, I don’t think you’ve ever touched Nathan due to a blood high. Oh, hang on, there was that time you threw him into a wall, but he was threatening to kill you at the time. It’s a long story. Dumbasses.”

Duke gives her a baffled, overwhelmed look. “Are you sure? Because I’ve been known to assault people for no reason when I’m… I threw you through a window that one time.”

“Yeah, you choked Dwight pretty memorably once,” Audrey says. “You’ve done some damage. But not to Nathan, and you’ve been exposed to blood around him a lot. If something happens, if you have a problem, then you re-evaluate, but don’t walk away from him out of fear. Especially not now.”

Duke sighs, and ducks his head in agreement. “If something happens, and I can’t, you have to be ready to do what it takes.”

“It won’t come to that, but for what it’s worth, I would,” Audrey says. _(She has been involved in the killing of nine Crockers, and cared for six of them.)_

Duke nods contemplatively. “Maybe it’s good that you love him too.”

“Oh, so we’re not dueling. Excellent. Though for what it’s worth, I could definitely take you out,” Audrey jokes.

Duke’s lips twitch despite himself. “Not even. What are you, five-four?”

“I fight dirty.”

“And you think I don’t.”

Audrey lets out something between a huff and a snort. “Well, we won’t find out.” It doesn’t burn as much as it should, with all that she remembers. When he wraps an arm around her shoulders, careful not to let blood touch his bare skin, she leans into him without a trace of guilt.

* * *

 

About half an hour later, Audrey’s managed to procure a pair of scrubs and wash the blood off her skin, so she’s curled up against Duke on the bench. It’s the middle of the night, and although she’s not going to be able to sleep with Nathan like this, the exhaustion is wearing on her.

“Dwight called. I hear you’re in dire need of O neg.”

Audrey looks up. Jordan is standing in front of them, black hair mussed on one side, wearing pajamas decorated with cartoon frogs, arms crossed.

“We really are,” Duke says gratefully. “Thanks.”

Jordan shoots him a look. “Not doing this for you, but if it keeps me off the hit list, more’s the better,” she says snippily. She looks back at Audrey. “Where do I go?”

Audrey gets up and grabs a nurse. “We found a blood donor for Nathan Wuornos.”

The nurse looks over, clearly amused at Jordan’s pajamas. “Excellent. We’ll get her scrubbed up and take her in.”

Audrey nods and turns to Jordan. “Thank you for doing this.”

Jordan shrugs. “No problem. I’m a universal donor and friends with Dwight. This isn’t my first rodeo.” With that, she follows after the nurse.

“I take back what I said,” Duke remarks.

Audrey raises an eyebrow.

“You can date her if you want.”

Audrey squints at him, spotting the joke somewhere in the set of his mouth. “Very funny. I appreciate your permission and all, but I think I’m okay with the single life right now. Besides which… Jordan. I’ve seen too much to go there. That woman has been all out of bubblegum since she left the womb.”

Duke smirks at her for a moment before the situation hits him again and he resumes staring mournfully at his hands.

Audrey sighs and leans on him again, resting her head on his shoulder. There’s not much she can say that will comfort him, but maybe he can still take solace from her presence. After all, he has no reason to see her body as a threat.

* * *

 

Jordan comes out eventually, slightly paler and with a bandage on her arm. “They say I can’t drive home for half an hour,” she states before sitting beside Audrey.

“I can get someone to drive you home?” Audrey offers.

“No point,” Jordan says. “This time of night, it’d take them that long to get here.” She pauses, then adds. “He was awake. Groggy.”

“Did he make any sense?” Duke asks.

Jordan tips one shoulder in a half-shrug. “Some of it. He asked if you were okay about six or seven times. By the way, I’m assuming that you are okay.”

“I am okay,” Duke says, smiling slightly. “Thanks. For trying to reassure him.”

Jordan rolls her eyes. “We’re not buddies, Crocker. No matter how much I save your boyfriend’s ass. Speaking of which, saw the handprint bruises. You’re an aggressive one, huh?”

Audrey’s spotted enough fingernail marks on Nathan from when he was seeing Jordan that not rolling her eyes takes a nearly Herculean effort.

“Am I ever not discussing that with you,” Duke says firmly. “He say anything else?”

“Asked if she was okay a few times. Began refusing painkillers. Told me a story about your cat,” Jordan says, sounding amused. “The doctors are just patching up. They should be done soon. And they say he’ll be fine.” She takes a swig of juice.

Duke lets out a sigh of relief. “He’s really going to be okay?”

Jordan does roll her eyes, at that, but something like a smile twitches under her lips. “That’s what they’re saying, yes.”

They fall quiet again. For a few moments, the only sound is the frantic clatter of the hospital, then, distantly, what sounds like an explosion.

“What the hell?” Jordan asks, sitting upright.

The explosion is followed by three more in short order.

Jordan’s phone buzzes. She reads the text and groans. “I’m being asked to go deal with that,” Jordan says, and sweeps out, looking remarkably poised for a woman in frog pajamas.

Shortly thereafter, Audrey’s phone beeps. _All available officers to the Haven Clinic office complex off C; repeated explosions._

This is followed by a second text: _Not you, dear. You stay where you are._

“There were explosions. And I, specifically, am being told to stay away from it,” Audrey reports to Duke. “Which I think also includes you, specifically, so don’t worry about it.”

Duke blinks. “Why? Who was in the building?”

“I… don’t know?”

“Then I’m not leaving,” Duke says quietly. She gives him a long, steady look. Audrey’s long thought that loyalty is Nathan’s fatal flaw, the virtue that he lets destroy him. Sometimes, though, that balance between selfishness and gallantry leaves Duke in the same place.

“Okay,” Audrey says. “Good.”

* * *

 

It’s nearly two in the morning when a doctor comes out. “Nathan Wuornos?”

Audrey and Duke jump up. “Over here!”

The doctor walks over, nodding reassuringly. “He’s okay. The knife tore up some musculature and nicked his liver. He lost a lot of blood, which Miss McKee was kind enough to help remedy. And…” the doctor hesitates. “We’re not sure what happened, but he may have some kind of head trauma or spinal damage…?”

“Oh, because he can’t feel anything?” Audrey asks.

The doctor squints at her. “Yes, that would be the symptom in question.”

“Not a symptom. Just put ‘idiopathic neuropathy’ in your charts,” Audrey says. “It’s not something caused by damage and it’s not something you can fix.”

“Oh,” the doctor says. “Well, then. Is this something that can be dealt with… emotionally or psychiatrically?”

Audrey shakes her head. “No. Permanent.”

The doctor bites his lip. “Well. That’s terrible timing. Normally I would refer him to four or five specialists, but unfortunately their offices all just got bombed. And anyone out of town…”

“Haven Clinic,” Audrey says, having a horrible realization. “The complex that exploded. They did medical care for…”

“TMCs,” the doctor says. “Troubling Medical Conditions. Yes, they’re the ones who specialize in that population.”

Audrey sighs. “Unfortunate timing, but we’ll deal with it. Thanks. When will we be able to see him?”

“Well, he still has to go through some testing,” the doctor says. “But after he’s finished with that, a nurse will let you know. The good news is, he should be mostly sober by then. Medically speaking, he’ll be fine.”

“Thank you,” Duke whispers hoarsely.

The doctor pats his shoulder. “You’re quite welcome. I have to go now- victims of the bombing.” With that, he strides off.

Duke sighs into his hands. “Okay, Audrey, you’re the expert. How the hell do we do this? Without me losing my shit and killing him?”

_(Thirty-six versions of her have known fifty-one Crockers. If anyone’s the expert, she is.)_

“You’re not anywhere close to that point,” Audrey assures him. “If it gets worse- and it’d have to get a lot worse- there will be signs, and I will see them, and deal with it.” _(Lucy Ripley, of course, had seen the signs in Simon Crocker and still done nothing until there was no denying what he was any longer.)_ But she knows more than Lucy Ripley ever did.

“It’s still a risk,” Duke says miserably.

“If you walk away from him now, he’ll never forgive you,” Audrey says. “And he’ll never be over you. This is Haven. Everything’s a risk.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Duke says quietly, firmly.

“Great. Can we stop having this conversation?” Audrey asks.

“Okay,” Duke says. He pauses a long moment. “When Nate’s Trouble kicked in as a kid, he was… barely functional, for a few weeks. How do we deal with that?”

Audrey shrugs. “I dunno. I wasn’t around for that part. We’ll improvise.”

Duke sighs and wraps an arm around her shoulders. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“Things were a lot better for you a few days ago,” Audrey points out.

Duke shrugs. “Still missed you.”

They sit together for a long while. Audrey lets herself relax against him and tries not to remember how much she doesn’t deserve this.

A nurse walks over to them. They sit up, looking at her. “The doctors asked me to let you know that Chief Wuornos is in Recovery,” she says tersely, lips thin.

Duke jumps up out of his chair so suddenly that Audrey has to catch the chair before it clatters to the ground. “Great. Can I see him?”

“I’m afraid it’s far past visiting hours,” the nurse says. “The room will be open at ten o’clock tomorrow.”

Duke blinks. “Oh! It’s fine, Nurse Leslie, I’m his next of kin. And medical proxy. In his file.”

The nurse- Leslie George, from her nametag- looks unimpressed. “Visiting outside visiting hours is limited to family only.”

“Yes,” Duke says, slowly. “That would be me.”

“Not by my definition,” Leslie says nastily.

Duke rears back like he’s been slapped. “Wha-? There is no one else! If you want blood relations or, or legal binding- there’s none of that. It’s just me.”

“Family. Only.”

“You don’t understand,” Duke says, a hint of desperation entering his voice. “He’s all I have.”

Leslie raises an eyebrow at him, a barely repressed sneer visible under her skin. Duke appears to be on the edge of losing it.

“Ahem!” Audrey jumps in, pulling out her badge and waving it in Leslie’s face. “Nurse George, I am Detective Parker with Haven Police Department. As you may be aware, Chief Wuornos was recently involved in an incident. That I must investigate. Duke, here, was a witness to said incident, and I need him to be allowed into Chief Wuornos’ room to… stimulate memory. For the report.”

Leslie looks extremely skeptical of this explanation, which, to be fair, is complete bullshit.

Audrey wiggles her badge and looks stern. “This is a time-sensitive case, and if he’s awake and off drugs, we can’t afford to waste any more time. Now, unless you want me to start using words like ‘obstruction’…”

Leslie caves with a grimace. “I’ll take you to his room,” she says tightly. “Follow me.”

Audrey and Duke follow her, Audrey still walking purposefully as if this is something she can fix. Leslie halts outside a room in recovery and gestures, disgusted look still firmly in place.

“Right,” Audrey says. “Duke, you go in there and stimulate his memory in whatever way you see fit. I’ll be in in ten minutes so we can talk shop.” Leslie makes a scoffing noise and leaves.

Duke rushes into the room, hovering tentatively by Nathan’s bed. Nathan reaches up, grabs Duke by the shirt, and yanks him down, burying his face in Duke’s shoulder.

Audrey turns away and sits beside the door, unable to see what’s happening inside. She stares at her watch. Time is weird for her, probably as a result of her centuries spent in the Barn, but she swears time is moving particularly slowly right now.

For distraction, she calls the station.

“So, explosion?”

“Stop it, hon. Stay right where you are. We’ve people on it,” Laverne says exasperatedly. “How’s Nathan?”

“Believe me, I am going precisely nowhere,” Audrey says tiredly. “Nathan’s awake and in recovery. Duke’s with him. Tell me about the explosion.”

Laverne sighs. “Fine, fine. It looks normal.”

“…What?”

“Bits of fuses. TNT residue. Multiple origin sites. It wasn’t a Trouble; it was a bombing.”

Audrey suddenly remembers what the doctor said before. “That clinic was known for working with Troubles that manifested medically.”

“Witness reports describe assailants who match up with some of the big players in the Rev’s old church. You should stay away from it, hon. They don’t like you.”

Audrey grimaces. “Will do. Let me know about updates, though. Also, let Nathan’s insurance know that they’re about to get a lot of weird bills and to just be cool about it.”

“Oh, it’s practically our motto. Haven PD: We Have Extremely Understanding Insurance. Tell him I send good wishes.”

“I will,” Audrey says. “Let Rebecca know he’s all right, when you have a chance.” Laverne agrees to do so and mother-hens about the amount of sleep they’re all getting for a few minutes before Audrey’s allowed to hang up.

It’s been eight minutes. Audrey stares at her watch for a few seconds before deciding that eight minutes is plenty, standing, and walking in.

Nathan’s bed’s been adjusted so that he’s sitting up, and Duke’s sitting on the bed across from him. Nathan’s face is buried firmly in Duke’s shirt, and Duke’s chin is resting on Nathan’s head.

“Hi, Nathan,” she says before she can accidentally overhear whatever Duke’s whispering.

Duke looks over. Nathan doesn’t bother.

“Hi, Audrey,” Nathan mumbles into Duke’s shoulder.

“Audrey’s the one who got me into the room,” Duke says gratefully. “Homophobic nurse. She wasn’t going to let me in. Audrey is a champion.”

There’s a pause, and then Nathan says, “She told me you weren’t coming.”

Duke makes a face and tightens his grip on Nathan. “But you knew we would?”

“Hoped. After this…”

Audrey doesn’t want to be hearing this. “Nathan. How’re the nerve endings?”

Nathan grunts. “Can’t feel anything.”

“Too bad. Bianca’s been booked, and… Okay, are you planning to extricate your face from Duke anytime soon?”

“No,” Nathan grunts. “This hospital smells like hospital.”

“Yeah? Are your other senses already improving?”

Nathan shakes his head. “Not yet. If I remember right, it’ll be a couple weeks. ‘Bout that long before I’ll be particularly functional. Hey, Parker, you wanna be interim chief?”

“Not particularly. Dwight can do it.”

“Dwight’s not even a cop,” Nathan points out. “If we’re gonna give it to a civilian, might as well give it to Duke.”

“You must still be high,” Duke says, making a face.

Nathan snorts. “Or, to avoid offending your delicate sensibilities, could give it to Stan.”

“Stan’s a good choice,” Audrey agrees. “Nathan, did you hear the explosions?”

Nathan blinks, turning his head to look at her and keeping his temple pressed against Duke. “I heard something like that, yeah. What happened? Trouble?” Audrey glances at the other beds in the room. “They’re comatose. Apparently there was a thing.”

“The explosions weren’t a Trouble. Bombs. Real bombs, planted intentionally, in the Haven Clinic,” Audrey says. “Which means a few things. Firstly, the doctors who would normally help you deal with this currently do not have offices, which is going to be sort of inconvenient. Secondly, looks like Revlings.”

“Any casualties?” Nathan asks, already slowly rotating his face back to where it was.

“Uh. I don’t know,” Audrey says. Shit, she should have asked. She’s not doing great at this whole empathetic good guy thing.

Nathan sighs. “Damn it. Like this town wasn’t having enough problems.”

“Hey, maybe you can have Grandma Jobeth suck their new leader into the earth,” Duke suggests.

_(Lucy, who’d known Jobeth Wuornos, and once watched her knock Max Hansen unconscious with the butt of a shotgun.)_

Nathan snorts, “Grandma hasn’t recognized me in years. Be a fun time trying to convince her.”

“So,” Audrey asks. “What are the odds that they’re going to go after Duke again?”

“I can just act aggressively queer until they remember that they don’t want me,” Duke says firmly.

“And if they go after Nathan again?”

“I’m heavily armed and having a bad week. They can _try_ ,” Nathan growls.

There’s a moment of quiet silence, and then she has to ask. “How are you, Nathan?” Audrey asks quietly.

He doesn’t say anything for a long moment. “At first I thought I was dead. And then I thought I was dying, and I couldn’t…” His face is pressed so firmly against Duke that it’s difficult to hear him. “It’s bizarre, that I’m surviving this. That this is just… how it is now. How I am. It’s like I’m not really here.”

Duke’s eyes are suspiciously shiny, and Audrey just stares at Nathan. He’s never spoken this openly about his Trouble before, at least not to her.

“You’re really here,” Duke whispers to him, voice hoarse. He clears his throat and adds, “And the Revlings can’t have you.” He takes a deep, shaky breath and looks at Audrey. “Who all knows that I’m activated?”

“Us, Bianca, and Rebecca, who’s in charge of keeping Bianca quiet,” Audrey says. “Chris Brody knows enough to extrapolate that you’re active, but not what the Trouble actually is. He’s not much of a gossip. Hates people. Hopefully not the comatose people over there.”

“Comatose people, I come in peace and am not a threat to the town,” Duke calls over his shoulder.

Audrey yawns. It’s the middle of the night, and she’s been rushing from emergency to emergency for most of the day. Now that she knows that Nathan’s safe, it’s catching up with her.

“Right, I’m exhausted. I’m gonna find someone who owes me a favor and have them drive me home,” Audrey says.

Duke shakes his head. “You leave, and Nurse Leslie is going to kick me out.”

Audrey groans. “Okay, well, I need sleep, so how do you feel about being deputized?”

Duke shuts his eyes before nodding slowly. “Yeah, fine. You’d better undo it as soon as he’s discharged. My reputation is damaged enough already.”

Audrey snorts. “Nathan, you’re the Chief.”

“I, Chief Nathan Wuornos of the Haven Police Department, deputize you, Duke Crocker, to guard and protect me from danger until I’m out of the hospital. Do you accept this responsibility?”

“Obviously.”

“Duke.”

“I _always_ accept this responsibility,” Duke huffs.

Nathan smiles a little bit, a fragile thing that doesn’t seem to fit on his face. “Good enough for me. I deputize you as a temporary officer in Haven PD.”

Audrey jots down a note, signing it. “Great. I’ll radio it into the station on the way back. Here are my handcuffs- if worst comes to worst, cuff yourself to the bed. Goodnight!”

“Audrey,” Nathan says quietly, peeling his face out of Duke’s shirt momentarily. Audrey stops and turns to look at him. “One thing. You’re immune. If you touch me, I’ll feel it. Do me a favor and don’t.” The look on his face is hard and serious.

Audrey nods slowly. “Yeah, okay.” She turns and walks away, this absurd promise still burning in her throat.


	6. Not Your Everyday Apocalypse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did okay on my GRE, so have a chapter. More violence. More dinosaurs. ALSO (because I very briefly mention the existence of the show Lost in this chapter) if there are any Haven & Lost fans reading this, hit me up. I have a lot of thoughts.

She wakes up to the sound of screaming, and it’s so disorientingly familiar that for a split second she expects William to be beside her.

Audrey shakes it off and bolts toward the deck, swearing loudly as she goes and pushing her mindset fully into helping mode. She surveys the marina.

People are screaming, crying, cowering- from nothing at all, as far as Audrey can see. For a second, she stares blankly, trying to remember the name of that one girl with the fear Trouble. Then she sees someone fumbling for a dropped cell phone, feeling for it on the ground, and looks around again.

Blindness. Mass blindness.

Audrey swears some more, because this is bullshit and she hasn’t had her coffee yet, and scans the crowd again for anyone who appears to be able to see.

“Get off me, creep!” a woman screams by the shore. Audrey glances over. A young man is pulling her wallet from her pocket.

Audrey sighs and jumps out of the boat, running toward him.

The man looks up, startled, and does a very these-are-not-the-Droids-you’re-looking-for hand wave. She doesn’t pause, and after a moment, he looks alarmed, spins, and runs. A few steps later, he trips on a piece of driftwood and slides into the sand.

She huffs and jogs over to him, standing over him. “Did you just turn half the marina blind to steal wallets?”

“I have tuition,” he mumbles pathetically. “Cornell is really expensive.”

“Fuck you. It’s too early for this,” Audrey snaps. “What’s your name, kid?”

“Jared Davison. Sorry, ma’am. I didn’t mean to hurt anyone.”

Audrey is tired and cold and desperately requiring caffeine, but she has enough grasp of the real Audrey Parker’s memories to sympathize with the tuition situation.

“You’re really stealing to afford Ivy League tuition? And if I check into you, I’ll find that’s true?” Audrey asks, sighing.

Jared nods. “I have to buy a $400 engineering textbook next semester.”

Audrey folds her arms. “You have to give back the wallets. Empty your pockets.”

Shamefacedly, Jared empties every pocket of his cargo pants, revealing nine wallets and six cellphones.

“Tell you what. You restore everyone’s sight and agree to do, say, thirty hours of community service, and I’ll agree not to call up Cornell.”

Jared nods. “Ok. Thanks, ma’am.”

Audrey wishes she could call the station and get someone else to deal with this, but her radio and phone are still on the boat. “Yeah, yeah. Restore their sight.”

Jared squints and does another Jedi motion. Everyone looks relieved but befuddled and begin collecting themselves.

Audrey nods and grabs Jared by the arm, hauling him upright and collecting the phones and wallets. She marches, hauling Jared, over to the people.

“All right, everybody, come get your belongings,” she orders tiredly. Everyone grabs their stuff, some of them shooting angry looks at her or Jared, all just taking the temporary blindness with a depressed resignation. When all the wallets and phones have been returned, she turns to Jared. “Report to the police station, Jared Davison, today. Someone will work out the specifics of your deal. If you fail to show up or try some shit like this again, I will become a problem in your life.”

“Okay,” Jared says timidly. Audrey gives him one final glare and marches back to the Rouge.

After boarding, she marches to the kitchen. On the way there, she pauses, smelling coffee. The last thing she wants is another intruder on the ship, but at least this one had the decency of bearing caffeine.

“It’s me, Audrey,” Chris Brody calls from the kitchen, ending her internal debate. “I crashed here last night, heard the screaming and you swearing, got up and made coffee.”

Audrey sidles into the kitchen and accepts the mug. “Thanks. I still don’t want to date you.”

“Shame,” Chris says nonchalantly, before clearing his throat and moving onto business. “Blood’s cleaned up. Some staining, so I moved a throw rug onto it. The cops are done with it, too. Is everybody okay?”

Audrey sighs and shrugs. “No, but nobody’s in mortal danger and everybody’s capable of handling it.”

Chris sighs. “This town, that’s about the best that can be hoped for. You should go back to bed- you only got back a couple hours ago.”

Audrey shakes her head and drinks more coffee. “Too late for that. I’m up now. Time to work.”

“Normally, I’d point out that the world won’t end if you take one day off,” Chris says.

“But today you’re not sure that’s true?” Audrey guesses.

Chris nods, looking sympathetic. “It’s bad. Maybe the worst it’s ever been.”

Audrey pauses and does a quick mental review. _(The Guard versus the Good Shepherd, the Troubled versus the angry religious folk, the selfish versus the unsuspecting, the angry versus the afraid, nature versus the unnatural, people versus themselves, Mara versus Haven and Haven versus Mara.)_

“Haven’s been through a lot,” Audrey says, eventually. “We always pull through.” She couldn’t pick a worst time, not for Haven as a whole- it’s always so much more complicated than that. “Thanks for the coffee.”

“No problem. Let me know if there’s anything else non-traumatic I can do,” Chris says.

“You could make me breakfast while I shower and change,” Audrey suggests, walking off while he sarcastically grumbles while pulling out ingredients.

* * *

 

Nathan and Duke are still at the hospital, and Audrey figures that she’ll let them stay until about mid-morning. She drops by the station just before seven.

It’s a madhouse. Every phone they own is either picked up or ringing, officers running frantically from one place to another, various terrified citizens in the halls. Audrey spots a few bright green children, a woman who is very nonchalant about the fact that her lower lip is on fire, a toddler who is approximately nine feet tall, someone wrapped tightly in saran wrap and not quite the right shape, and several other terrified people.

Audrey walks past it all, looking for Laverne- she can’t take time to deal with a non-emergency, not right now.

She freezes when she spots him.

Ordinarily, she wouldn’t even have noticed him. He’s waiting next to the wall, looking quite normal- white, average height, average weight, slightly balding. He’s the man whose Trouble changed everything. He’s the one who can reset it all.

“You remember, too,” he says, surprised. “What I did. How it changed.”

Audrey nods slowly. “What’s your name?”

“Mario Burns,” he replies. “I didn’t mean to change all of this. I just wanted to help Detective Wuornos out. I didn’t realize…”

“Yeah, Nathan’s important,” Audrey replies, staring at him. “So what did you do? What gift did you give him?”

Mario shrugs. “I work at the Haven Clinic- I’m a lab tech- I’ve seen his file. He’s a TMC, or was- I just made it so that his Trouble didn’t activate.” Mario looks around the station, wide-eyed. “It was a supernatural nerve condition. I never imagined…”

“Things got complicated,” Audrey sums up. There’s a shaky buildup of feelings growing inside her- at some point, she’ll have to get hysterical about the fact that Nathan and Duke have always had complicated sexy feelings and neither of them ever told her- but now’s not the time, so she shoves it all down.

Mario bites his lip. “I can reset it, if you’d like. Like it never happened.”

Audrey shakes her head reflexively. “No. But…” she sighs. “Goddammit. Give me your address and number.”

Mario looks around the station, a little incredulously, before grabbing a post-it and a pen. “If it gets much worse… I won’t be able to wait for you.”

Audrey writes down her own number. “Call me. There are things I’d need to do first.”

Mario nods and takes it. “Cure one little Trouble and now my job is exploded…” he sighs to himself, just as Stan calls Audrey over.

“Yeah, good luck with that,” Audrey says. “Gotta go.” She jogs over to Stan. “Looks like mayhem.”

“It is,” Stan says grimly. “You want to come with me to rescue a family that got trapped in their TV?”

“We should stick to high-priority cases,” Audrey says. “As long as they’re not in _Game of Thrones_ or anything, they can wait.”

Stan shakes his head. “Mother’s a firefighter, father’s a therapist, daughter’s a lifeguard. We need them back on the frontline. Right now, they’re in _Tom and Jerry_.”

“Oh. Ew. Let’s go.”

“What do you mean, ew? It’s a classic,” Stan says as they walk past the mayhem. “I wrote a thesis on them in college.”

“Too repetitive. There’s only so many times a cat being accidentally hit with its own mallet can be funny. I require more plot.”

“Clearly. I heard you talking _Lost_ with Rebecca a few weeks ago.”

“Yeah? I always over-related with Kate,” Audrey confides. It’s weird, casually talking to her coworker about TV while going to rescue someone from the show as the town falls apart around them.

They have to take a backroads route to the house, as the main roads have melted. On the way, they pass several emergencies that they can’t stop to fix. Stan keeps staring at them, eyes wide and horrified.

“We can’t stop,” Audrey reminds him every time. “There’s too much. We have to compartmentalize.”

Stan’s a bleeding heart, and she isn’t- never has been, not in all her years of saving people. It makes her effective, but now she wonders if it makes her heartless.

While Stan stows his empathy, Audrey pushes away the philosophical debate. It’s not like she’s actually going to solve it.

They pull up to the Martinez family home, which looks strangely calm through all the chaos. They hop out of Stan’s car and proceed carefully to the door, which Stan kicks open.

“Hello!” Audrey calls into the house.

“Get us out of here!” Mr. Martinez yells in low-volume from the living room, over cartoon boings indicating cat shenanigans.

Audrey jogs into the living room. “Hi, everyone. I’m Officer Parker; this is Deputy Chief… Stan.” Does Stan actually have a last name? “We’re here to help.”

“Thank god,” Mrs. Martinez says fretfully. “We can’t find our daughter. Desirae. She loves this show, and she got sucked in-”

“We tried to pull her out and now we’re in here too and we can’t find her anywhere,” Mr. Martinez adds. “Don’t touch the screen, or you’ll get pulled in too.”

“How old is Desirae?” Audrey asks urgently.

“Twenty-one,” Mrs. Martinez adds, somewhat frantically.

“Desirae Martinez is the lifeguard,” Stan murmurs to her, lips twitching.

Audrey heroically does not roll her eyes. “Okay. First things first. Stan, grab onto me, then reach in and haul them out.”

Stan does so. Audrey keeps him anchored to the room, and he manages to yank the Martinez couple back to reality. They both collapse on the carpet, huffing, and smelling of smoke and cheese.

“Okay,” Audrey says firmly. “Stan here once wrote a thesis on _Tom and Jerry_ , so he’s going to go in there and find your kid.”

“What?” Stan says, alarmed. “I’m the behind-the-scenes guy. I do your paperwork when things get too busy. I console victims. I write parking tickets.”

“It’s a kid’s show, Stan.”

“It has more acts of violence per episode than most crime shows!” Stan says.

Audrey taps her foot. “Get in the TV, Stan. Time to shine. Try not to get hit with an anvil or anything.”

Stan gives her another pleading look, but apparently decides that anvils are less scary than she is and tentatively touching the screen. With a squelching noise, he gets sucked into the cartoon. Outside, Audrey hears a screech of terror.

Audrey turns to the Martinez couple. “I know you’ve had an ordeal, but we need you on the job. Please. Call your respective supervisors for assignments or just go outside and deal with emergencies. They’re everywhere.”

“This wasn’t supposed to happen yet,” Mr. Martinez said. “The Barn. Everyone said when it finished, it was over for years…”

“I know,” Audrey says. “I know it wasn’t supposed to be this way. But it is, and you need to go. I’ll get your daughter out.”

Mrs. Martinez is staring out the window, having spotted the source of the screeching- a small child floating away like a lost balloon. She jumps to her feet, and without another word, tears out of the house. Mr. Martinez sighs fretfully and follows her.

“Maybe my daughter is safer where she is,” he mutters to himself.

This is almost definitely true, but they need her lifeguard skills, not to mention Stan, so Audrey just watches them go.

They can’t catch the child. He floats, screaming, beyond the trees, above the houses. Soon, he’s out of sight and earshot, and all that’s left are the remnants: horrified parents, Mrs. Martinez with her hand pressed to her mouth, and a feeling of numb exhaustion all the way to Audrey’s bones.

She’s seen horrible things- caused them, too, both intentionally and not. She’s seen horrible things happen for horrible reasons and noble reasons and sometimes no reason at all. Now, she remembers all of it. She can’t even feel horrified anymore.

But she can still help. She can fix. Find people’s weaknesses- to break them down further or help patch them up, it’s what she does. A determined steel crawls up her spine _(Mara, Audrey, all of them in between- it is what she is)_.

Stan wanders back into shot, dragging Desirae behind. Following them is Tom, who’s recently had his furry face flattened by a wall. Instantly, the exhaustion drains out of Audrey, leaving the steel behind.

“Desirae, you like this show, right?”

“It’s predictable,” Desirae says, rubbing her arms and refusing eye contact. “The score never changes, you know? Every episode is like the last.”

“And you want that,” Audrey jumps on the thought immediately. “You want things to stay the same.”

“It usually does. That’s how it’s supposed to be. Wednesday is just like Tuesday and Monday,” Desirae says miserably. “But yesterday was different and today is even worse. I just wanted a break. Please don’t make me leave.”

“I know it’s less scary in there,” Audrey says sympathetically, leaning forward. “But out here, we need you. We need you to use your skills and help make tomorrow a little less scary. Hiding won’t fix anything. It won’t help.”

“People are dying. In droves.”

“I know,” Audrey says. “You need to be brave. You need to help. If we all try to hide, tomorrow will be even scarier.”

Desirae’s chin quivers, and suddenly she and Stan are standing in front of the TV. Desirae turns and pushes the power button. Tom and Jerry vanish.

“Where do you need me?” she asks, standing strong despite the trembling in her voice.

“Go outside. Help your parents. Help somebody,” Audrey suggests gently. “You don’t need to do everything. You just need to do something.”

Desirae nods, wipes her eyes, and walks shakily toward the door.

Stan nods at her, pale. “I almost got blown up,” he confesses. “By a cat.”

Audrey pats his arm. “You were good, there. Radio Laverne. What’s the next emergency?”

Stan calls the station, listens for a long moment, then confirms and hangs up. “The ocean seems to be solid, and it’s spreading. We have to fix that before it gets any worse and exposes us. The good news is, the roads are solid again. The bad news is, Dwight’s Trouble activated. He’s in the hospital. Apparently he was too close to an attempted suicide.”

“Fuck! Is he okay?” Audrey demands.

“He’ll live,” Stan says. “But we don’t have an abundance of front-line responders here.”

Audrey pulls out her phone, swearing to herself, and calls Duke.

He answers it immediately. “Yeah, Nate just got a call from the station. We’re checking out. I managed to get through the night without having to cuff myself to anything.”

“Good, good. How is he?”

“Injury-wise, okay. Better than expected. The rest… You know how sometimes the dentist will numb up your mouth and you can’t competently talk normally or eat until it wears off?”

Audrey groans. “Is he functional?”

“Semi,” Duke replies. “I’ve got him, Audrey. Don’t worry about it.”

“Look, it’s kind of a nightmare out here. Too much happening.”

“Yeah, well, this hospital isn’t exactly a picture of tranquility. I kinda guessed.”

Audrey sighs. “Duke. It’s bad. There’s too much. You know I wouldn’t even bring it up…”

There’s a very judgmental silence on the other end. “You’re asking me to use my Trouble to thin the herd. Reduce the number of active emergencies.”

“From a distance, if you’d prefer. No blood. If that helps,” Audrey says.

Duke’s reply is sarcastic. “Oh, yeah. That was the only problem with becoming a serial killer. Get me a gun and I’m all for the murder of innocent citizens. Are you out of your mind?”

“I’m desperate,” Audrey says flatly. “We’re running out of options.”

Duke sighs. “What you’re asking isn’t another Harry Nix. One was bad enough. If I do several, in a row like that… I’ll never be able to go back. And now, with Nathan… I can’t. I _can’t_. I’ll help how I can, but I’m not doing that.”

“If it gets worse?”

“No, Audrey.”

“If it gets bad enough that the other option is undoing it all? Going back to a world where Nathan’s in love with _me_?”

Duke doesn’t answer for a long moment. “Nathan’s alive back there? And safe, relatively?”

“Yes,” Audrey says.

“I can’t,” Duke replies hoarsely. “Nate’s everything, but… I can’t risk it. I can’t be like my father.”

Audrey briefly considers the merits of arguing that point- she remembers Simon, after all, and it all went very differently than this- but Duke’s not wavering the point and she honestly doesn’t want to make him.

“I get it,” she says, finally. “You love Nathan, but you have to do this for you. For who you are.”

“Yeah. Thanks. Can we be done talking about this now?”

Audrey snorts. “Sure. I’m almost at my next emergency. Stay safe, both of you.”

“You too.”

Stan’s giving her a very weird look. “Are you going to tell me what that’s all about?”

“Nope,” Audrey replies, sliding her phone into her pocket.

“I’m not sure whether to be more curious about the blood or the Nathan being in love with you.”

Audrey makes a face. “It’s complicated. Shut up. Solid ocean?”

Stan gives her a sympathetic look. “Okay. How’s the Chief?”

“Recovering,” Audrey says. “Back on the job. Solid ocean?”

Stan chuckles. “Okay. It’s a hard, crystalline material, and the problem is spreading. Could give us away. And we’re here, so let’s go find out more.”

They park, leave Stan’s car, and walk toward the shoreline. The light glitters off the immobile sea, beautiful but eerily silent.

“Hi, Audrey,” Chris calls, jogging toward them. “I amaze myself, saying this, but… I think I’ve got this. One of my colleagues, a friend, called me about it, and honestly, I think she…”

“Right. Marine biologist,” Stan says, nodding.

Chris nods. “Yep. And a sci-fi writer on her own time. I’ve, um, read some of her drafts. Something like this was in one.” He looks at Audrey and does a little blushing head-duck that implies that, despite all of Chris’ indelicate propositions over the past few days, the draft-reading was not entirely platonic.

“And you think you can resolve the situation before Haven gets outed?” Audrey asks.

Chris nods. “She’s on her way here now. She knows about the Troubles.”

“Speaking of which, if yours kicks back in… If you’ve got anything beyond fiction-reading friendship, you have to end it,” Audrey says brusquely.

Chris grimaces. “Yes, because my Trouble makes me… what was it? Oh, right. ‘A walking roofie.’ I’ve already had this conversation with Wuornos and I would give up many things to never have it again, particularly with you.”

Stan’s phone rings and he answers it, murmuring on the other end.

“Ah. Back to the job,” Audrey says.

“Sounds like it’s wearing you out. Didn’t know it was possible,” Chris says, tone gentle. Audrey rolls her eyes at him. “Yeah, okay. Good luck. Please try to stay alive.”

“Audrey, I’m gonna drop you at Lobster Pup. Apparently people are going feral there- Claire went in, but she hasn’t reported back and the noise is apparently still… Some immunity could be helpful. I’m going to the station and talk down our Congressman.”

Audrey nods. “I will absolutely take feral people over politicians. Let’s go.”

* * *

 

Audrey gingerly removes the barriers to Lobster Pupand walks inside. It smells of grease and, faintly, urine. The customers are huddled on the ground or in the booths, showing teeth. Audrey quickly spots Claire, who is glaring out beneath her shining red hair.

Audrey clears her throat and breaks out her best comforting voice- the one Lucy used on traumatized kids- and says, “Hi, everyone. Can anyone understand me?”

No one responds, because she can’t be that lucky. Audrey sighs and begins approaching Claire- almost getting bitten when she gets a little too close to another patron.

“Hi, Claire,” Audrey says gently when she gets close, kneeling and offering her hand like she would to a stray dog.

Claire sniffs the hand and makes a noise, soft and low in the back of her throat, before nudging her head against Audrey’s thigh.

“Um, yes, there you go. I’m your friend. Uh, good Claire,” Audrey says, giving into the urge to pet Claire’s hair. It feels just as lovely as it looks. “Claire, can you understand me? Nod if you can understand me.” Claire nuzzles Audrey’s thigh again, purring slightly. Audrey sighs. “Nice Claire. Don’t attack me. Okay.”

Audrey looks around, trying to study each victim- she keeps her eyes nonthreateningly averted. They all look the same- not particularly dangerous, but scared in the way that could easily turn into violence.

None of them are in a direct line to the counter. All of them are hiding in a booth or behind an object

“Good people,” Audrey says absentmindedly, moving slowly toward the counter. Claire makes a sound of alarm and darts after her, moving on her knuckles and knees, to get between Audrey and the counter, trying to herd her back. When this fails, Claire bites the material of Audrey’s khakis, trying to drag her back. The other people are also making anxious noises.

Audrey huffs. “No, Claire! Um, leave it!” Claire, instead, tries to yank her back and tears off a chunk of the cheap fabric. Audrey sighs and continues walking toward the counter, leaving a whining Claire with some khaki in her mouth.

Behind the counter, the manager is sitting in the middle of the open floor. He growls at Audrey as soon as she steps toward him. There’s blood on his mouth. She spots another couple of employees, all cowering.

“Hi, manager, uh-“ she reads his nametag, “Charlie. Good Charlie.”

Charlie growls at her, showing his teeth.

“Bad Charlie!” she chastises. “Can you understand me? Because it seems like you’re probably the-”

Charlie rushes toward her, making odd, aggressive shrieking noises. Having anticipated this, Audrey easily kicks him hard in the face, knocking him back sprawling across the floor.

The noises in the restaurant immediately change to more human bafflement.

Charlie sits up, hand to his very broken nose. “What the hell?”

Audrey stares at him, tapping her gun. “Did you turn the entire restaurant feral?”

“He’s always going on rants about how he’s the alpha of our pack because he’s the manager, and we all have to listen to him,” says one of the employees, a teenager in smeared makeup, in a bitter tone.

Audrey snorts. “Well, the alpha has pissed his uniform. Anyone feel free to go above his head and report something to his boss.”

“Hey!” Charlie growls. “I’m in charge here! Get behind the counter and treat me with respect or I’ll have to ask you to leave!”

Audrey laughs. “Are you trying to power trip me? I’m the fucking Chosen One. You manage a Lobster Pup.”

“Audrey, we should go,” Claire says, dusting off her suit with as much dignity as possible. “It’s bad out there.”

“Right,” Audrey sighs. “If you do this again, I’ll have to come back and break more of you.” She checks her phone and frowns at a text, placing a call.

“Laverne?”

“Hi, doll,” Laverne says, sounding uncharacteristically distressed and distracted. “They turned the high school into an overflow hospital for the Troubled, and we just got a report that the Revlings are planning to hit it. Too many doors, too little security, and we can’t spare anyone. Neither can the Guard- I already talked to Vince. We need a lot of bodies without losing anyone. Any ideas?”

Audrey considers. Nothing comes to mind. “I’ve got nothing, Laverne.” Removing the phone for a second, she says to Claire, “Hey, can you drive me to the high school?”

Laverne’s saying, “Too bad you had to kill the girl. We could actually use some battle pigs right about now.”

Audrey snorts. “Best I can do you is velociraptors.”

Laverne considers for a moment. “Is that a genuine possibility?”

Audrey pauses as she climbs into Claire’s car. “Maybe. He didn’t have control over it yesterday, and his trigger was related to fear that he’s dangerous. Using him as a weapon could end very badly.”

“The Revlings attacking a building full of stressed-out and wounded Troubled people would be worse.”

“Same people might freak out at the sight of dinosaurs guarding the exits,” Audrey points out.

“We can post signs,” Laverne says. “It’s worth a try. Call the wrangler.”

Audrey sighs, hanging up and making another call.

“Hi, Audrey,” Chris says. “The ocean’s back to normal.”

“Cheers. I need to talk to your cousin, the one with the dinosaurs.”

“You mean Mitch?”

“You have several dinosaur cousins?”

“Possibly, but you mean Mitch. Why?” Chris asks.

“How stable is he?”

Chris sighs at her. “I think he’s doing better. No relapses. Why?”

“We need a relapse. A controlled one, in which the raptors are under his control.”

There’s a pause. “Okay, I know we’re desperate, and I know you wouldn’t ask unless you thought this might work, but you at least know that’s crazy-talk, right?”

“Yeah. Also, I need you to come too, to help me keep him focused. It might be traumatizing.”

Chris laughs in an entirely humorless way. “You know you’re asking too much.”

“I always have,” Audrey says. “You in or not?”

“He’s the only family I have left,” Chris says, but there’s still no refusal in his tone. “Fine. Where do you need us?”

She gives him the details and agrees to meet them there. By the time she hangs up, Claire’s arguing with the Guard member who’s defending the parking lot entrance.

Claire wins the argument and they’re allowed to proceed. “Apparently the Guard is supposed to be in charge here, but Dwight’s here anyway so everyone’s answering to him,” she relays to Audrey.

Audrey sighs, running a hand through her hair. This probably means that Charlotte is here. Just what she needs.

“Okay,” Audrey says. “Let’s find him.”

This, it turns out, is not difficult- he’s parked by the front office, sitting in front of a row of phones. Charlotte is sitting beside him, looking calmer than anyone Audrey’s seen all day.

Dwight nods at them. “Audrey.”

“Hey. Heard you got shot,” she says.

Dwight shrugs. “Yeah, took one to the knee. Wasn’t using it anyway. Heard you had some plan to guard this place with raptors?”

“Predatory bird or dinosaur?” Charlotte asks.

“Dinosaur. Chris Brody’s cousin,” Audrey says. “Tell me what you need guarded.”

Dwight spreads a map on the counter. “Too many entrances and exits. We’ve got all but the main ones locked, but we all know they can get through that if they feel like it. I’m thinking you put the dinosaur master on the roof. Vince’s up there now, with a sniper rifle- best views. Is there any number restriction on how many raptors we can have?” Audrey shrugs, unknowing.

“Won’t a sniper rifle just hurt you?” Claire asks.

“Yeah, it’s not loaded. He just likes the look. I think he’s got a crossbow too. We’ve got some other people turning a baseball dugout into a bunker- I’m going to go hide in there, draw fire, and hope it all gets stuck in the insulation. We’ll see how it goes. I’ll have a radio and pass orders through Charlotte and Vince.”

“So we’re not going to be shooting,” Audrey says.

“That would be preferred,” Dwight says dryly. “There’s a stash of crossbows, knives, swords, spears, the like in one of the math classrooms. They’ll have guns- Bobby Mueller told us everything he knows about their weapons stashes, and we got some of them, but several were already cleared out. We’re getting him out of the state. Poor kid.”

Chris walks up to them, Mitch hanging tentatively in his wake. “This is a bad idea,” Mitch says nervously. “I couldn’t control it last time. It was pretty bad. And there are injured people here.”

“It’ll be okay,” Audrey says. “If it doesn’t work, we’ll get rid of them again. But you’re calmer now, and it’s possible that everything will be smooth. Willing to give it a try?”

Mitch doesn’t look convinced, but he nods.

“Great,” Audrey says. “Dwight, can you show me how to get to the roof?”

Dwight raises an eyebrow at her. “’Fraid not. They didn’t put in a ramp. Charlotte…?”

“Of course,” Charlotte says smoothly, brushing a hand affectionately across Dwight’s shoulder. Audrey makes a face.

Charlotte stands and leads them sweepingly through the halls. The contrast is striking- the lockers, posters for clubs, and sweat-Lysol odor that every high school seems to possess against the various horrors housed here now. People, some obviously afflicted by the supernatural, some injured, and some looking perfectly normal, sitting around the halls and in the classrooms. Dana Rodriguez is unconscious on a row of desks. Desirae Martinez is bandaging up an elderly man who’s covered in weeping sores. There are many more Audrey recognizes, at least by face, as people she’s saved, or doomed, and often both.

Charlotte leads them up the stairs to the roof. Vince Teagues is pacing, rifle slung across his back. His eyes are cold and hard, and Audrey wonders how she ever bought his sweet-old-man act.

“Audrey, Charlotte, Chris,” Vince greets. “You are?”

“Mitch Rekow, friendly local dinosaur wrangler,” Mitch says nervously. “I’m not gonna kill anyone. Just keep them back. But… oh, this is a bad idea.”

Chris grabs Mitch by the shoulders and looks at him intensely. “I know this is ridiculous and I know you’re being asked to do something impossible. You wanna back out, back out. They can’t stop you. But if you’re gonna do it, let’s do it.”

Mitch inhales a long, shaky breath. “Okay. Okay. You want me to go now?”

“Whenever you’re ready,” Audrey says encouragingly. Vince is quietly loading his crossbow.

Mitch nods and breathes deeply. There’s a screech from below and they all look down. A group of raptors are huddling below, difficult to see clearly from the height, but all standing still and apparently awaiting instruction.

“Wow,” Mitch says faintly.

“Nicely done,” Audrey says. “You want to take a second, or do you want to try to move them to the doors?”

Mitch squints, looking a little more confident, and the raptors start jogging to entrances, gaining a few startled shrieks from people.

“Hard to see, at this height,” Vince muses.

“What, you want me to call the rest of my cousins and see if any of them are doing T. Rexes?” Chris asks sarcastically.

“I was actually thinking about procuring binoculars, but thank you for the offer, Mr. Brody,” Vince replies, equally snarky. Chris grins.

“Mitch, how about pterodactyls?” Audrey asks gently. “Give it a try.”

Mitch breathes slowly, looking up at the sky intently, and four pterodactyls suddenly burst into existence, screeching.

“Wow,” Chris says. “That money I owe you? I will definitely pay that back.”

Mitch laughs, only sounding slightly hysterical. “I just made dinosaurs.” He pauses, and then adds, “ _Pterosaurs._ ”

“Very nice,” Audrey says. “Vince, do we know what’s going on with the Revlings?”

Vince pulls the radio from his belt and hits a button. “Jordan. What’s going on?”

Jordan’s voice is tinny. “Packing weapons. I’ve been sneaking out to disarm them when I can. Half the guns are already missing firing pins.”

“Hannah,” Vince says heavily. “She was an asset.”

“A champion amongst our people,” Jordan agrees. “Anyway, I can’t get to much of it. Too many people. I’m hiding in a Porta-Potty.”

“Give that woman hazard pay,” Chris comments.

“I don’t know who that is, but thanks,” Jordan says. “Look, I’ll report back when they start taking off so you can get Dwight in a safe room.”

Vince’s lips thin. “Yes. Let me know.”

Audrey sighs. She’s not actively doing anything, and the exhaustion is hitting her hard. She’s barely slept in this reality.

Her phone rings. It’s Duke. “Hey. Everything all right?”

“More or less. We’re here, at the high school,” Duke says. “Nathan needed a CAT scan. It’s all right; he’s fine.”

“Bad case?”

“Nah. Nate can’t be trusted with stairs yet,” Duke says. “He went down the big ones at the courthouse. Having issues with his limbs. It’s like we’re thirteen again.”

Audrey laughs. “Those steps are malevolent. I’ve gone down them too.” _(Isadore, who, to be specific, was pushed.)_ “Well, I’m on the roof, so you’ll have to help him brave the staircase if you want to join me. There are dinosaurs.”

“Yeah, Rebecca had us posting signs. ‘The Dinosaurs are here for Your Protection.’ We’ll be up in a bit.”

Audrey smiles. “See you. Try not to cling too much on the staircase.”

“I make no promises.” Duke hangs up.

Audrey rolls her eyes and puts her phone away. “Duke and Nathan are here. They’re fine, except that Nathan can’t handle stairs.”

“Considering I spent most of last night scrubbing his blood off the floor, I am not going to mock that,” Chris says.

Vince raises an eyebrow. “What happened to Nathan?” he asks sharply.

“Hey, remember how for my first few months here, you had answers to all of my questions and didn’t tell me?” Audrey asks cheerfully. Vince gives her a look reminiscent of the disapproving principal she never had.

Vince’s radio clicks on. “Showtime,” Jordan says grimly. “Moving.”

“Weapons?”

“Guns, mostly. Least as far as I could tell. A couple of grenades. Good news for everyone but Dwight.”

“I’ll get him into the bunker. He’ll be safe, probably,” Vince says. “Follow them and give us a five minute warning. Don’t engage.”

“If you get Dwight killed, I’ll mess up your life.”

“Standard procedure,” Vince says, with the same gentleness he uses when something reminds him of Sarah, which is a little alarming, but she’ll contemplate it later. Vince changes a dial on the radio and says, “How’s the bunker coming, boys?”

“Done. We think.”

“Bulletproof?”

“Probably.”

Vince rubs a hand over his forehead. “If there’s anything you can do to make it stronger in the next twenty minutes, do it. Then it’s time to do this. Get him in there before then and start letting people know.”

“Got it, boss.”

Vince pulls out his cellphone and begins making several cryptic, stressed phone calls that are nearly identical to one another.

“How’re you doing, Mitch?” Audrey asks.

“Good. Good, I think,” Mitch says anxiously.

“You’re doing great, man,” Chris says firmly. “Just keep breathing. Let us know if you’re struggling. You’ve got this.”

Mitch nods. “I really don’t wanna get shot.”

“You won’t. We’ve got a guy for that. As long as you don’t get between the guy and the guns, you’ll be fine,” Audrey assures him.

“Do you have a guy for grenades?” Chris asks. Audrey shakes her head. “God. What is my tax money even going to?”

Vince hangs up and turns to Audrey. “Audrey. Sometime, we need to discuss the current situation in Haven.”

Audrey raises an eyebrow at him. “You recall that I don’t actually take orders from you.”

“Can’t you see that we’re having an apocalypse?” Vince asks coldly. “The Guard is one of your best resources. How many times have you called in my people over the past few days? But things aren’t like they were. You’re back, despite the Barn, and without a new identity. There are new Troubles from nowhere. And who is William?”

Anger swells under her skin. “Who I am is none of your concern. The Barn is not your problem. William is not here. And you and your people will continue to assist with the Troubles, because that is what you are here for.” And _shit_ , the coldness in her tone is coming from the worst part of her, and she should be getting it under control, but she can’t bring herself to want to.

Chris is giving her a strange look. “Okay, you know I usually dig how you call people out on their shit, but we’re about to get attacked and I’ve got an emotionally delicate cousin with dinosaurs here so maybe you all can table this for another time.”

“That sounds like an excellent plan,” Vince says. His voice is reserved, but his eyes are steely.

Audrey breathes slowly, pinching the bridge of her nose _(Sarah Vernon, who dealt with a lot of bullshit)_ and tries to remember that she does not hate these people. Or, if she does, that she at least loves them too.

The door to the rest of the school opens and Nathan walks through, followed immediately by Duke, who has one hand on Nathan’s hip and another on his shoulder.

Audrey snorts, tension forgotten but for the sharp tension in her back and wobbly abdomen. “So clingy.”

“I apologize for nothing,” Duke says. Nathan looks exasperated, but is ignored. “What’s going on? You all right?”

“Yes, fine. Revlings are on their way.”

“I shall prepare to act as gay as I can, as is my sworn duty,” Duke says solemnly.

“As long as you’re not doing it toward me again, more power to you,” Chris says.

“As pretty as you are, Brody, you are also an asshole,” Duke points out.

Chris gestures at Nathan. “Also known as pretty much exactly your type.” Nathan makes a face, but does not dispute this point. “Plus you tried to seduce me with waffles and dirty jokes once. I’m watching you.”

Vince’s radio clicks back on. Jordan says, “Five minutes.”

“Do we get weapons?” Nathan asks.

“Is that Wuornos?” Jordan asks.

“Yeah. Hi,” Nathan says.

“Hello. FYI, you’ve gotten all of my bodily fluids that you are allowed.”

“What’s this?” Vince asks, intrigued.

Nathan ignores him. “Okay. I’ll do my best not to need them. Thanks. You… stay safe too.”

Vince is sending contemplative looks between his radio and Nathan, until he catches Audrey narrowing her eyes at him and stops.

“Anything but a gun,” Vince tells Nathan. “How are you with a crossbow?” Nathan shrugs. “Probably best to not, then. One moment.” Vince adjusts his radio. “Where are you, Dwight?”

“Personalized dungeon,” Dwight replies promptly. “Baseball dugouts are not wheelchair accessible. I have to be carried in and out of here.”

“That should be hazard pay for both Dwight and whatever poor bastards had to lift him,” Chris comments.

“We just got the five minute warning,” Vince says. “Call your sister or something.”

“I already left a message. Let’s do this,” Dwight says, resigned. “Please try to minimize the shooting.”

“Yes. And we do have doctors on hand,” Vince says, in what he probably thinks is a soothing voice.

“Are you gun guy?” Mitch asks. “The guy they have so we don’t get shot?”

Dwight snorts. “Yes.”

“Hi. I’m dinosaur guy. Thank you.”

“Thank you too, dinosaur guy. Vince, how’s Jordan?” Dwight asks.

Vince makes a face. “Alive. Annoyed. I’m hoping she’s not going to attack the horde of angry religious people, but I never know with her.”

“She won’t,” Dwight says. “If she’s not activated, she won’t take the risk.”

“I hope that’s true. I need to call everyone else now. Good luck, Dwight.” Vince makes more muttering cryptic phone calls as the rest of them walk slowly around the perimeter of the roof, studying the terrain. Audrey points out the box in the baseball dugout that is currently housing Dwight.

“So don’t get between there and guns?” Mitch asks.

“Right,” Duke confirms. He has managed to partially unlatch from Nathan and now just has an arm wrapped around his waist.

Audrey falls in step beside them. “How’re you doing, Wuornos?” she asks softly.

Nathan shrugs and says, “A mess. Adjusting quicker than I expected, though. Guess I never really forgot.”

She studies him. His wrist is bandaged and his stride is a little ungainly, tripping every few steps. He’s too pale. But something’s off, something’s missing in the picture. Audrey studies him, trying to figure out what’s pinging her intuition.

Duke whispers something to Nathan and Nathan smirks, shaking his head, and that’s when Audrey realizes that despite everything, Nathan still looks happy.

His Trouble’s just been activated, the town is nearly in ruins, and they’re about to do battle with violent people who already stabbed him once, and he still looks happier than she sees him on a daily basis in the world she’s used to.

It nearly knocks the breath out of her. In her reality, Nathan is declaring love for her approximately every thirty seconds, insisting he’d give up everything else for her, insisting with increasing hysteria that they belong together, and it’s making him utterly miserable.

Audrey’s known for a long time now, but it still feels like an epiphany when she realizes that she’s never really going to make him happy.

Which she’s going to have to deal with at some point when several pickups aren’t busting through the partitions into the parking lot.

Now, it’s time to do battle.


	7. That's Great, It Starts with an Earthquake

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains a character death and some religious folks using their religion to be terrible.

At first, it goes well.

The Revlings are clearly surprised and alarmed regarding the dinosaurs, and react mostly by trying to shoot them. The bullets go sideways, not harming any of the reptiles but injuring several of their own. While they fall over themselves, yelling, Vince points out Jordan stealing more weapons from the beds of their trucks during the distraction. Chris rubs Mitch’s shoulders and mumbles nonsense in a reassuring tone. The Revlings continue trying to shoot, but mostly shoot each other or nothing at all.

“How you doing in there, Dwight?” Vince asks into his radio.

“Loud and unpleasant but it’s holding,” Dwight replies. “Out there?”

“Good, so far,” Vince says.

And this is true. The Revlings are unable to fight their way past the dinosaurs. They throw at least one grenade toward the school, but nothing actually explodes. There’s a minor fire near the bike rack that doesn’t accomplish much.

There are people- Guard, cops, volunteers- standing by the entrances with various non-gun weapons, but they’re just standing, watching. The Revlings were not at all prepared for dinosaurs, and the raptors attacking them at the knees and the pterodactyls diving in above them are taking up all of their attention. They can’t use guns, they can’t use the grenades in close combat, and the grenades that they’re trying to use have clearly been sabotaged.

For a moment, Audrey thinks they didn’t need to be so worried after all. But only for a moment.

In the end, the downfall does not come from gun or grenade. The downfall comes from a megaphone. One of the Revlings grabs one and stands on the roof of a truck to yell at them. Even on the roof, Audrey can hear it clearly.

“The Lord has looked upon you and he has judged you harshly!” the Revling booms toward them. “You have been deemed abominations and Cursed. If you repent of your heinous sins you might yet be saved. Those of you who continue to repel God and spit upon nature will in turn be repelled and spit upon!” A small vibration runs under Audrey’s feet at his words.

“Don’t listen to him. Just keep focused,” Chris says soothingly to Mitch. “Thank Darwin we’re atheists.”

“Ignore him, Jordan,” Vince orders into his radio.

“You are Cursed! Deformed! Forsaken, unless you repent your sins and ask for forgiveness! If you do not turn away from your filth, you will surely perish!”

Another tremor runs through the building, and this time, Audrey knows it’s not her imagination. “You feel that?” she asks them.

With the exception of Nathan, who just winces a bit, they all give her small nods.

“Okay, Mitch, think you can get some of the pterodactyls to take him out?” Audrey asks.

Mitch gives her an alarmed look. “I’m not supposed to have to hurt anyone! You told me that I don’t have to be a killer!”

“You don’t have to, Mitch,” Chris says, shooting Audrey a rather disgusted look.

Vince pulls out his crossbow and fires a bolt at the preacher. It flies toward him before abruptly bouncing backward and dropping harmlessly to the ground. Vince tries twice more, with the same result.

“Force fields!” Chris exclaims. “Hypocrites.”

Audrey pulls out her phone and calls Charlotte.

“Someone’s panicking down there,” she says.

“We know,” Charlotte replies. “Earthquake Trouble? Honestly, Mara?”

Audrey ignores this. “Check for Caldwells.” It could be Marion Caldwell, or a relative, doing this. Then again, it could be at least a dozen other Troubles, and Audrey no longer knows the names associated with those.

The man- the new preacher, she supposes- is still spewing hatred into his megaphone. Another shudder runs through the building. Nathan careens sideways a couple steps and is caught by Duke.

“That’s strange,” Nathan comments, clutching Duke. They’re both too pale now.

“How quickly can we evacuate?” Audrey asks.

“We can’t,” Charlotte replies succinctly. “Not without massive losses.”

Of course. It’s a makeshift hospital- Audrey’s seen for herself that many of the Troubled within are unconscious, sedated, or otherwise immobile.

“Find whoever’s Trouble is acting up and then find someone emotionally competent enough to calm them down,” Audrey orders.

“We’re working on it,” Charlotte says, and hangs up.

Audrey stows her phone. “We’re waiting it out. Nathan, how’s the balance?”

“Unnecessary,” Chris quips, as Duke and Nathan are still grasping at each other. Audrey notes, distantly, that this is really par for the course for them. They are so prone to manhandling each other during danger that even in her reality it has become a running joke among the rest of Haven PD.

“-abominable filth unto the Lord! You have abandoned God, and so God will abandon you to your putrid rot. Your Curses, your deformities, will doom you to suffer eternally-”

The next tremor is intense enough that Vince falls to his hands and knees, curly hair swinging. Audrey hears something shatter from below and barely stays upright herself.

Vince pulls himself to his feet, trying to disguise the difficulty in the motion. The rumbling takes longer to subside than before. Audrey can hear some unpleasant groaning and splintering sounds from the building, paired with some shouting. Duke’s coughing from the dust.

“Is this building earthquake-proofed?” Audrey asks suddenly.

“This is Maine,” Nathan says.

“This is Haven,” Audrey retorts.

“Point,” he concedes. “I doubt it. Building’s too old.”

The juddering has stopped, for now, but the building beneath them is still making alarming noises.

The Revling is still talking, working himself into a furor, but she tunes him out. Audrey wonders if this was the plan all along- to stress the Troubled in the building until they destroy themselves. It’s sick, and Audrey feels the old rage rising toward the surface. She takes a few breaths, pushes it back down.

“Okay, Mitch, let’s try to shut this guy up before something cataclysmic happens,” Chris says nervously. “If it’s not him doing the force field…”

“You want me to attack them?” Mitch asks, horrified, and Audrey remembers that hurting others was the fear that cost him control last time.

“I know, man, I know,” Chris says gently. “But if he keeps talking… I know this isn’t your responsibility, but we are standing on top of this fragile building full of fragile people in this fragile fucking town-”

“His point is, we can’t just let this happen and you’re the one with the power right now,” Audrey interrupts, giving Chris a stern look.

Mitch takes a breath and shakes his head. “I think I’ll lose control.”

Audrey sighs. “Right. Duke…?”

Duke clearly saw this request coming. “Since the Trouble-bomb, any number of them could be Troubled, right? It’s probably not just that one?”

“I don’t know,” Audrey says, impatiently. “We don’t have an abundance of options.”

“Well, this still isn’t one of them,” Duke says as another tremor hits the building.

Vince falls over again, and this time Audrey goes too, scraping her palms against the concrete. She stays down until the shaking dies down, then hauls herself to her feet before pulling Vince up.

The shouting from below lasts longer this time.

Vince’s radio crackles. “Power’s out,” the voice on the other end says. “There are probably generators, but we don’t know where they are. Still haven’t found the shaking Trouble.”

“Keep looking,” Vince barks back.

The dinosaurs are still keeping the Revlings away from the building, but their movements are growing increasingly erratic.

“It’s okay, Mitch, you don’t need to hurt anyone,” Audrey says hastily. “You’re not hurting anyone. You’re just protecting all the people in here who need it, and that’s good. You don’t have to be dangerous to be strong. I know this is scary. Hang in there.”

“I’m not sure this is working,” Mitch says, voice strained.

“Don’t let him get to you,” Nathan adds, voice low. “He’s wrong. About everything.”

The preacher’s still going on, but Audrey’s trying hard not to listen. Her worst instincts want to find him, reach into him, and turn him into his own worst nightmares. She longs to turn him into the kind of monster he’s describing into a megaphone, to let him wallow in his shame and hypocrisy for the rest of his short life.

The building shakes again, violently, and more alarming sounds- shattering, crunching, groaning, crumbling- come from below as Audrey’s thrown to her knees again. Vince has retreated to the roof entrance, where there’s a railing for him to hold onto. Audrey climbs back onto her feet before the shaking subsides.

“Somebody do something!” she shouts.

It takes a longer time for the building to still again, and when it does, Audrey can only see the silhouettes of the Revlings and dinosaurs due to all the dust in the air.

“Can you hold on?” Chris is asking, a sharp focus in his voice.

“No,” Mitch chokes. “It’s slipping. I’m gonna lose the control.”

“Stay calm. Don’t panic,” Audrey says, perfectly aware of how incredibly unhelpful the advice is. “Breathe and focus.”

Chris ignores Audrey completely. “Mitch. If you can’t hold on, get rid of it. Send them away. Better to lose the defense than to have the dinosaurs attacking our people too. Okay?”

“They’ll attack,” Mitch says pitifully. “I’m all we have.”

“No, you’re not,” Chris replies. “You’re just doing your part. This isn’t on your shoulders.”

The preacher is still screaming and another quake hits the building. Everyone falls but Vince, still clutching his railing. Audrey manages to do a controlled fall and turns to look at Nathan, who is clearly baffled by the oddities of balance without feeling. He looks disoriented, but he landed on top of Duke and neither of them appear to be injured.

When the building stills and she stands again, the dinosaurs begin viciously attacking the Revlings and then vanish abruptly. Audrey tries not to swear.

“-the Cursed who have died from their unnatural afflictions were smited by the Lord for their transgressions and burn in punishment for eternity! Repent or you too-”

A loud, sudden siren pierces the air and forces them all to clap hands over their ears.

“Fire alarm,” Audrey says, unable to hear her own voice.

The first one to react to this development is Duke, who jumps to his feet, scoops up a startled Nathan in a bridal carry, and sprints down the stairs and out of sight.

Hands still on her ears, Audrey follows them, with Mitch and Chris right behind her and Vince presumably right behind them. She concedes one hand to a railing in case more quaking, wincing at the painful volume of the shrieks.

The stairwells are packed with panicking people. Audrey stops to haul up a familiar-looking woman who’d fallen and was at risk of being trampled. People are carrying others, and visible Troubles are manifesting all around her. It’s chaos.

The building starts shaking violently again and Audrey grabs the handrail for dear life. It’s the most violent one yet and an enormous rumbling crash comes from the other side of the building, abruptly cutting off the alarm.

Chris grabs her arm and pulls her forward. His other hand is pushing Mitch along. “We have to keep moving!” he shouts over the din.

After what feels like an hour, but is probably less than thirty seconds, Audrey stumbles out the door into the open, but filthy, air. People are calling for each other frantically. Some are trying to fight their way back into the building, but are being held back.

“Get back! It’s coming down! Get back!” someone with a Guard tattoo is yelling.

Audrey’s savior instincts kick in and she starts pulling people back, waving them away from the building. Chris joins in beside her, a very reluctant look on his face.

The shaking starts back up, loud and violent sounding, and a young woman darts under the arm of a Guard man and rushes toward the building. Chris sprints after her, yelling.

A large section of the wall groans and collapses.

As soon as the shaking starts to settle, Audrey’s running.

The dust hasn’t cleared, but she locates him by his coughing. He’s sprawled on the ground with a large piece of debris across his abdomen to his thighs and a dumbstruck expression on his face.

“Chris!” she says, dropping to her knees beside him. “Can you hear me?”

He nods weakly at her. “Don’t move it,” he tells her. “There’s a pipe or something- it’s in me.”

Audrey nods. “Rescue’s on the way,” she says, even though rescue might very well be tied up with something else. “Is there a doctor?” she hollers.

An older woman yells, “Coming!” and jogs over. “Oh, dear, that looks- _oh._ ” She stops talking to gaze at Chris. “Oh, what a world, that something like this would happen to a great man like Chris Brody.”

Chris’s whole face seems to crumple. “No,” he whispers. “No, don’t-”

Mitch runs up, panic on his face until he looks at his cousin and his expression is instantly glazed over by vapid adoration. “It’s such an honor to be related to you, Chris.”

“Oh, Chris!” says someone in the crowd.

“You’re the best of us, Chris,” calls another.

“No!” Chris groans. His teeth are stained grotesquely with blood. “Mitch, _please_ don’t.”

Mitch is too foggy with insipid worship to realize what’s happening. “I wish I were just like you, Chris. You’re the best.”

“Back off!” Audrey shouts. “Give him some space! Get back!” She turns to Chris, grabbing a hand. “Now listen here, you dick, you’re not going to give up here. You’re going to hold on until some people show up with a crane to rescue your pathetic, whimpering self- are you paying attention, you ass-clown?”

Chris is coughing again, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth, but he smiles at her for a moment before his head tilts back limply.

“Good! So listen up, you stubborn, misanthropic loser, because you don’t get to quit on me again! Hey! Stay with me, douchebag! Dammit, cocksucker- nincompoop! Moron! Shithead! Dew-beater! Idiot-pants! Twat-scab!”

“Chris!” Mitch yells, suddenly panicked. He runs over and drops to his knees. “Oh no, oh god, Chris!”

The glassy, stupid worship is gone, replaced by plain horror. Chris Brody’s Trouble is gone. Audrey drops his hand by his side, feeling suddenly sick.

“Mitch. Mitch, he’s gone,” Audrey says.

“No. No, dammit!” Mitch exclaims. “No, I was right there, and I couldn’t- I couldn’t do anything but…”

Audrey checks to make sure her hands aren’t shaking, then reaches out to close Chris’ eyes. “I’ll give you a minute.”

She stands and walks away from the collapsed building, unsure if the burning in her eyes comes from grief or dust.

Nathan and Duke are standing a few yards away, looking horrified. Duke is still carrying Nathan, bridal-style. Nathan appears to have forgotten.

“Chris Brody is dead,” Audrey tells them.

“Damn,” Duke says. “Sorry. I know you two were… close, once.”

Audrey shakes her head. “Yeah, but it’s not about that. He didn’t deserve this. He just wanted to help.”

“I know,” Nathan says. “And I know we should take time, but are the Revlings still here?”

Audrey closes her eyes for a brief moment. “Probably. I’ll talk to Mitch for a second and then we can go try to deal with them.”

“Back to work,” Nathan sighs. “Duke, put me down.” Duke makes a face and kisses him on the forehead before complying.

Audrey walks over to Mitch, lying a hand on his shoulder. “I’m going to go deal with the Revlings, all right? And then I’ll come back.”

Mitch stands suddenly, a ferocity in his eyes contrary to the meek nerdiness she’s become used to in him. “The Revlings,” he spits, hate in his voice. “They did this.” He takes off sprinting around the side of the fallen building.

Audrey sighs to herself and chases after him, for no other reason than that there might be survivors- and Jordan- in the vicinity.

As soon as she rounds the corner, she sees the horde of dinosaurs- still just raptors and pterodactyls, thankfully, but dozens of them- attacking the Revlings. She can’t see clearly through the chaos, but it’s clear that many of them are being torn apart limb from limb. The noise is horrific. She can’t bring herself to care. They all appear to be Revlings, and that’s all that matters to her.

The preacher is crouched, terrified, still on the roof of the truck. His force fields appear to be holding- dinosaurs keep bouncing off the invisible barrier. Jordan, a few yards away, is kneeling in the bed of one of the trucks, crossbow aimed steadily at the preacher.

Audrey does nothing.

In the face of this kind of rage, there’s little she can do- she could kill Mitch to save the Revlings, but frankly, she doesn’t really care. In the face of the kind of carnage caused by the collapse, the retribution strikes her as fair.

Nathan and Duke step up behind her. Nathan makes a horrified sound, but doesn’t make a move to do anything either.

“Yeah, I still have too many nightmares about them kidnapping Nathan that one time to care about this,” Duke says frankly. “You White Hats want to take care of this?”

“Kind of no,” Audrey replies casually. There’s no way she could admit something like that in front of them in her world, not now. They wouldn’t think of the hatemongering or the lives crushed underneath the building- only of the monster they’re afraid she is.

“What about the one with the megaphone?” Nathan asks.

Duke shrugs. “Either Mitch or Jordan will outlast the force field. Come on, we should go try to help with the rescue efforts.”

“M-Audrey!” Charlotte calls, jogging up to them. Her normally pristine hair is mussed and her hands and face are scratched. “You’re all right.”

“Yeah,” Audrey says. “Did you find the Troubled person?”

Charlotte nods. “A man whose wife and child both succumbed to their Trouble before the Barn. He took the megaphone man’s words rather personally. We tried to talk to him, but were unable to calm him down sufficiently. Officer Rafferty told me to run and pull the alarm. She stayed behind.” Charlotte punctuates this with a long look to the remnants of the building.

“Damn,” Nathan swears softly. “Rafferty…”

Charlotte sighs. “Did Vince make it out? Dwight- who is unharmed, by the way, and still in the bunker- says he isn’t responding to his radio.”

Audrey freezes, backtracking.

Duke’s eyes are wide. “I was focused on getting Nate and me out. I haven’t seen him since the roof.”

“He was behind me,” Audrey says slowly. “When I left the roof, he was coming too, but the stairwell was a stampede and I haven’t seen him since.”

“He’s a tough old bastard,” Duke says slowly. “But we should have seen him by now if he made it out. Damn.”

“We should go back and help with the rescue efforts- there’ll be some survivors under the wreckage,” Nathan says. He sounds exhausted, and is listing against Duke slightly.

“Not many of them,” Charlotte says bluntly. “Not compared to the dead and dying. And the dying, and the family members- I’ll be shocked if another destructive Trouble doesn’t go off here within the hour, and there are Troubles this bad or worse all over town. It’s too late. We’ve failed. Don’t lie to yourself.” This last part is directed at Audrey.

Audrey shudders. “You think we should undo it.” She’s been trying so hard not to think of the possibility, but she slips a hand into her pocket, and Mario Burns’ contact information brushes her fingers. She doesn’t want to. She so desperately doesn’t want to. But she’s known for hours, maybe a day now, that she would have to.

“Undo the Trouble? The one that brought Audrey back- or brought her here?” Nathan asks, glancing between them, alarmed.

“Not precisely,” Charlotte says clearly. “The Trouble in question created an alternate timeline, in which-”

“We know,” Duke interrupts rudely. He’s pale, and clutching at Nathan in a way that would probably hurt if he could feel it.

“If you undo it, Duke and I, we won’t… We won’t be…” Nathan trails off, and Audrey nods. Nathan grimaces. “You know I’d do anything for you, for this town, but what you’re asking…”

Duke’s shaking slightly. “It’s really that bad?” he asks, voice low. “That’s really the best thing for Haven? You’re sure?” He’s looking at Audrey, wanting the answer from her.

The eye contact burns and she looks away. “It’s not better for me. Or either of you. But Haven isn’t… We’re struggling and it’s bad, everything’s different, but we’re not falling apart like this.”

“The people were prepared in ways they aren’t now. It was awful, especially the first few days, but the false hope here is pulling everything apart,” Charlotte says. “I don’t think it’s done getting worse. Our Haven is recovering, coping, right now, and yours is collapsing. We tried, but this isn’t going to work.”

Duke winces, long and deep. “Okay,” he finally whispers hoarsely.

Nathan stares at Audrey. “One condition,” he finally says.

Audrey raises her eyebrows. “Anything.”

“Tell me the truth,” Nathan says. “The other me. Tell me about Duke, that it works. That I’m happy. Tell me everything.” He’s staring at her intently, fiercely.

Audrey nods, even though the very thought makes her uncomfortable. “Okay. Look, I think I can carry things back with me. If you want to write letters, to yourselves or each other, I’ll carry them back with me.”

Nathan nods slowly. “And you’ll deliver them?”

“Yes,” Audrey says.

“Promise me,” Nathan replies.

Audrey sighs and looks at the man she still loves. “I promise.” Nathan nods.

The moment is broken along with the preacher’s force field. They all turn to dispassionately watch him die screaming.

When that’s done, Audrey says, “If we’re gonna do this, I need to call Claire. Give her a chance to… I dunno, prepare. Write her own notes if she wants.”

“Claire,” Duke says, a little brokenly. “Damn. Anyone else?”

Audrey’s eyes flicker to where Jordan is still sitting in the bed of a Revling’s pickup.

“Jordan?” Duke asks. “Shame. She’s helpful. And snarky. And O-neg.”

Audrey closes her eyes, rubs her brow. “Okay. You go and write letters. I’ll talk to Claire and Jordan. When I’m done, I’ll text you the address of the man whose Trouble this is. We’ll meet there and do it. Okay?”

“You’re sure?” Nathan asks quietly.

Audrey shrugs miserably. “I don’t want to do this to you. You- you look so much better here. You’re content, you’re… I dunno, happier. You too, Duke, but Nathan… But yeah. Yeah, I think we have to. Sacrifices, and all that.” After all the sacrifices she’s made, this should be easier, but it’s not.

Nathan looks at the ground, nods. “Okay. I don’t want this either, but I trust you.”

Audrey winces again, because he shouldn’t. “Okay. I’m so sorry about this. See you soon.” She pauses, then adds, “Duke, you should call Evi… and Wade.”

Duke’s jaw drops open slightly. “No,” he says immediately. “What? No, they’re not even from Haven. This isn’t their fight.” Audrey just gives him the most sympathetic look she can muster. “No, that’s not- that’s not fair. I can’t even call Evi, she’s underground…”

“What? Isn’t she in prison?” Nathan asks.

Duke shakes his head. “No, she got out, I was gonna surprise you when we signed the divorce papers- it doesn’t even matter now. Fuck, and Wade?” He sounds about an inch away from tears.

“I know,” she says, but she can’t offer him anything else.

She turns away from them, pulling out her phone. She pulls up Claire’s contact information and stares at it for a few seconds before making herself push the button.

Claire answers immediately. “I heard about the high school,” she says grimly. “Is it time?” Claire’s voice is so calm that Audrey assumes she must be referring to something else.

“Claire, we have to undo the timeline change. We- we have to go back. I’m so sorry,” Audrey says. Her voice cracks toward the end, but she’s had a lot of practice holding herself together.

“All right,” Claire says. “How long?”

“Today, soon, but I can give you time to prepare,” Audrey says. “And I’ll carry back any letters you write, if you want, and deliver them.”

Claire sighs. “In your timeline, how long has it been since I died?”

Audrey bites her lip and does the math. “A little over a year.”

“And you said my clients are taken care of?”

Audrey nods. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure.”

Claire’s quiet for a long moment. “My job is my passion. It’s what I do, it’s who I am. There’s very little else. I have no one to write to.” She pauses. “But there is something I need to give you. Can I see you before it happens?”

“Yes,” Audrey says. “Yes, I’d like that. I’ll text you the address.”

“Okay. How are you holding up?”

Audrey considers the question. She’s done a lot of things in her life that would nearly rip most people in two. She’s made a lot of impossible decisions and learned to live with that.

“This is hard and terrible, but I’ve dealt with worse,” she says. “Though now I get to go tell Jordan that she’s dead, and that’s gonna suck.”

Claire inhales a sharp breath. “Try to be gentle with her. Lie to her, if you have to. Don’t traumatize her any more than you have to, particularly if she’s not activated yet. She should be able to hold someone’s hand at the end, if she wants to.”

Audrey agrees with the sentiment, even if the thought of lying to Jordan alarms her a bit.

“Okay,” she says. “I’ll do what I can.”

“Good luck. Try not to beat yourself up- it’s what has to be done,” Claire says gently.

Audrey takes a deep breath, postponing the crying jag that she’s definitely gonna have later. “Thanks, Claire.”

“See you soon,” Claire says, and hangs up. Audrey steels herself and glances back. Duke and Nathan have left, but Charlotte is still standing there, watching impassively. Mitch and his dinosaurs are gone now too, leaving nothing but a pile of shredded men behind.

Audrey turns back and walks up to Jordan.

“I know I should be helping with the rescue efforts,” Jordan snaps as Audrey approaches the truck. “I just needed a moment.” She looks exhausted, like they all do, and Audrey remembers that she almost certainly got even less sleep last night than the rest of them.

“It’s okay,” Audrey says, hoisting herself up into the bed beside her. “You don’t owe me anything.” She pauses, then asks bluntly, “How’s your Trouble?”

Jordan shrugs. “Still in remission. Probably not for long. Who told you?”

Audrey ignores this. “You know how I’m immune? To the Troubles?”

Jordan gives her a sideways look. “I’m aware. Why bring it up now?”

“Because this whole reality is a Trouble,” Audrey says slowly. “A man named Mario Burns tried to give someone a gift, in my reality, and it changed things going back a few years. In my reality, the Barn was destroyed. The Troubles never stopped. I’m still there, which is why I’m here- my immunity.”

Jordan blinks at her. “Wow,” she says dryly. “The whole world is a lie and I’m not even surprised anymore. I guess that explains a lot. New Troubles were contained in the Barn or some shit?”

“Not exactly,” Audrey says. “It doesn’t matter now. It’s getting too bad here, so I have to undo it. I don’t have a choice.”

“No, you sure as fuck don’t,” Jordan says bluntly. “You went into the Barn to save us from this kind of disaster- or at least, you did here. You have for a while now. You know how many people have died in the past few days? It’s only gonna get worse. So yeah, if shit like this isn’t happening there, then you’d better take it back. I’m just glad it’s your problem and not mine.”

Audrey swallows and says it simply. “You died there.”

Jordan goes very still, eyes freezing on the torn corpses of the Revlings. “How?”

“You got in the way of someone’s out-of-control Trouble,” Audrey says, honestly enough. “It was quick.”

Jordan grimaces in an angry way that shows all her teeth. “Fuck. All I wanted was to live to be normal again, and I couldn’t- fuck.”

“And we have to go back there,” Audrey says gently. “I’m sorry.” It occurs to her that she’s apologized, and meant it, more times in the past ten minutes than the previous few months.

“And I was still Troubled when it happened,” Jordan says brusquely, staring angrily at her own bare hands. Her pretty manicure is wrecked. “I never got-”

Audrey sighs. “These past months that you’ve had, this last year- it’s real, and it matters. Even if it’s not going to stick.” Jordan doesn’t react to this, just keeps glaring. Her eyes are stretched wide, trying not to let the tears fall. Audrey’s familiar with the trick. “Is there anyone you want to write to? I can deliver a note.”

Jordan abruptly jumps to the ground and begins marching toward one of the sections of the school still standing. She yanks open a door and goes into a near classroom- math- and finds a blank piece of graph paper. Audrey stands respectfully back while Jordan scribbles a long message, folds up the paper, folds up another piece of paper to tape into a makeshift envelope, and seals the thing.

“Grady Moore,” she says suddenly, scribbling his name on the envelope and pushing it at Audrey. “My Guard partner.”

Grady Moore, who was killed, skinned, and worn by Arla Cogan. Audrey doesn’t say it, remembering Claire’s advice. She nods, sliding the envelope into a pocket inside her jacket.

“Anyone else?” Audrey asks, then prods, “I’m sure Dwight would love to hear from you.”

Jordan blinks, looking down at the paper. Eventually she just says, “Tell Dwight I said hi.”

Audrey nods. “Will do.” They walk into the hallway.

A man in a hard hat gives them a startled look. “Hey! You gotta get out of here. Structurally unstable- more of it could come down at any second.”

Jordan marches up to him and pokes his bare arm. He steps away, giving her a tired look- this is clearly not the only strange behavior he’s seen today- but he doesn’t shout.

“Come on,” Audrey says quietly, gesturing Jordan toward the door.

“I’m gonna go,” Jordan says rather distantly when they’re outside. “I need to… I’m gonna go.”

“Goodbye,” Audrey says quietly. “Thanks for the help. You’ve been kind of a champion.” Jordan gives her a surprised look followed by a watery smile and walks away.

Audrey finds Charlotte, who hasn’t moved. She pulls out the scrap of paper in her pocket and her phone, dialing the number.

“Hello?”

“Mario Burns?” Audrey asks.

“Officer Parker,” he says, sounding resigned. “I figured you’d be calling.”

“Are you at home?” she asks.

Mario sighs. “‘Fraid it’s not safe to be anywhere else. Do you want me to do it now?”

“No!” Audrey says quickly. “No, not just yet. Stay where you are and I’ll come to you. If anyone else shows up- Chief Wuornos, Duke Crocker, or Dr. Callahan- just let them in. They know what’s going on. I’m on my way.”

“All right. Officer Parker? I’m very sorry about all of this.”

Audrey sighs. “Yeah, me too.” She hangs up and turns to Charlotte. “Ready to go?”

Charlotte arches an eyebrow. “Of course. You’re the one who actually cares about all this.”

Audrey grits her teeth. “Great, Mother. You want to help me steal a car?”

* * *

 

As it turns out, the Revlings left their keys in the ignitions, so the car procuration is the easiest part of the process. Figuring out how to navigate the town, which is basically in bizarre ruins, is more difficult, but Audrey lets Charlotte handle it while staring at her own scratched up hands. Every time she looks out the window, she sees some new horror, more dead or dying, one more reason she has to do what she’s about to do.

She’d thought this was her chance for everything to be okay, but it’s never going to be that easy for her.

Eventually, and after some damage to the truck, they pull up to a modest house on the south end of the town.

Audrey gets out of the truck and walks toward the house and it feels like the Barn all over again. She takes a deep breath and knocks on the door.

Mario opens it. “You’re the first one to show up. Come on in.” He offers a hand to Charlotte. “I’m Mario Burns; this is all my fault.”

Charlotte shakes it. “Dr. Charlotte Cross; no, it’s not.”

They walk into his house. “Can I get you anything?” Mario asks.

“Coffee!” Audrey and Charlotte say simultaneously. Audrey appends a, “Please.”

Mario smiles at them. “Coffee I can do. I’m sure it’s been a long few days for those of you on the front lines.”

“Absolutely,” Audrey says emphatically. She’s barely slept.

“Do you want to lie down? I’ll get you when the others arrive,” Mario offers.

Audrey shakes her head. “No, I’ll take a nap when I get back.” The statement hits her a second after she says it. She’s really doing this.

Mario bustles off to make coffee.

“I wondered how long it would take you to do this,” Charlotte comments. “I honestly thought it would have to get worse.”

“What, because Nathan’s happier here?” Audrey asks.

Charlotte blinks. “What? No, because you are.”

“Oh,” Audrey says. She considers the matter. “Yeah. I suppose I am. You didn’t think I’d just stay, then?”

“No. That’s not who you are anymore,” Charlotte states. “However much of your rage might be left, you won’t doom the town. Intentionally, anyway. At least until they anger you terribly again.”

“Your faith in me is touching,” Audrey mutters, but she thinks there might be a trace of pride behind her mother’s usual blasé indifference.

There’s a knock at the door. Audrey opens it to find Claire. She looks shaken, rather pale, but still remarkably put-together. There’s a plastic bag with a box inside hanging from her arm.

“Come on,” Audrey says, gesturing Claire into the room.

Claire enters, shutting the door behind her, and proffers the bag at Audrey. “It’s for you. Don’t open it until you get back.”

Audrey takes it, glancing curiously at it. “Okay. Thanks?” She hesitates. “Claire, I’m so sor-”

“No,” Claire says firmly. “No more apologizing. This, right here, this is the right thing to do and we both know it.”

Mario returns. “How do you take your coffee?” He smiles thinly at Claire.

They all tell him and he begins delivering mugs. Audrey drinks it in gulps, probably burning her tongue but not caring. Charlotte and Claire aren’t far behind.

“Who else is meeting us here?” Claire asks.

“Nathan and Duke,” Audrey says.

Claire nods. “And they’re prepared to do this? To sacrifice their relationship to give Haven a chance?”

“Prepared is probably not the right word,” Audrey sighs. “But yes, they’ve agreed. Now I get to deliver their love letters.”

“I see. That’s an uncomfortable position for you.”

“If we get into that therapy session, it’ll take longer than we have,” Audrey says firmly. She tips the mug into her mouth only to find that she’s already finished her coffee.

Claire reluctantly lets the subject drop. “How did Jordan handle the news?”

“Better than I expected. She didn’t activate or attack anyone,” Audrey says. “She wrote a letter to a dead man and I have no idea what I’m gonna do with it.”

Claire smiles sympathetically. “Fortunately, you have experience in the field of having too much responsibility for other people.”

There’s a slightly stilted knock at the door. Audrey opens it and gestures Nathan inside. He walks- well, honestly, he walks like a very drunk man trying to pass a sobriety test.

He offers her two envelopes. “You promised,” he reminds her quietly.

“I know,” she says, taking them and sliding them into her jacket. “Look, I’m not gonna try to hijack this. I do actually want you to be happy.”

Nathan flinches slightly. “Sorry. I know. I just… I really hate this.”

“Oh, me too. In a matter of hours, I’m gonna have to break up with you. God, you’re gonna be so annoying about it,” Audrey sighs.

Nathan’s mouth twitches in what might qualify as a fraction of a smile. “Sorry? But thanks. I… I hope sometime we manage to just be friends and partners again.”

Audrey hugs him, careful not to touch any skin, and mumbles, “Me too. You’re kinda my favorite.” She pulls back and smiles sadly at him. “I’m afraid we’ve already messed everything up.”

Nathan clearly doesn’t know what to say, and the silence rapidly becomes awkward.

“Is Duke with you?” Claire asks to break it, even though he clearly isn’t.

Nathan shakes his head. “He stopped off at home. Wanted to send himself some photos of Jean.”

“Did you drive here?” Audrey asks suddenly.

Nathan shakes his head. “Called Rachel from Accounting- she owed me a favor. Wouldn’t do that to my brakes.”

“Well, make yourselves comfortable,” Mario says. “I’ll make more coffee. You all look exhausted.”

Audrey’s eyeing a comfortable-looking brown armchair, but she’s slightly afraid that if she sinks into it, she won’t be able to get back up. “More coffee would be appreciated.”

Nathan sits down carefully, still not moving comfortably in his body.

“How’re you holding up, Nathan?” Claire asks kindly, sitting across from him. He gives her an incredulous look and says nothing. Claire gives him a sympathetic look. “All right. Fair enough.”

“I can’t lose him,” Nathan says finally. “I just really can’t lose him.”

Mario brings more coffee, and this time, Audrey makes herself sip it slowly. None of them say anything, all listening to the bizarre and chaotic sounds from outside the house.

A few minutes later, Duke opens the door without knocking and walks in, nodding at them. He hands Audrey a normal white envelope and a large, padded manila envelope.

“Did you write me a novel?” Nathan asks, amused.

“That one’s for me,” Duke says. “Some photos, and yes, I’m wordy. What about it?”

Something about this rings hollow to Audrey- the balance is off, one corner of the manila envelope feels heavier than the others- but she frankly doesn’t want to know. She drops the envelopes into the bag beside Claire’s box.

Duke turns to Mario. “What’s your Trouble exactly?”

Mario makes a strange face. “I don’t know everything about it, to be honest, but my family can give people gifts. Change things for them, a little- it always has to be done with good intentions, but I’ve heard we’ve done some pretty awful things in the past. I work at Haven Clinic as a lab tech, and I know Detective Wuornos. You’ve always seemed like a good guy, a civil servant and all, and that Trouble… It just sounded like such crap. I ran into you on the road- you were fixing a young lady’s car- and I decided you deserved better than that. I know retroactive Troubles are the most dangerous, but it was only a self-contained sensory Trouble, so I just took away the activation… I really wasn’t expecting all this.”

“My Trouble?” Nathan asks, alarmed. “This is just my Trouble? Claire- Wade- Jordan- my Trouble?!”

“Indirectly,” Audrey says quickly. “Very indirectly. None of them were your fault.” Jordan’s may have been a little bit his fault, but she decides not to say that.

“Just the Trouble?” Duke has a look of terrified hope on his face that makes him look eight again. _(Lucy Ripley, who protected him as well as she could before she went away too.)_

Mario nods. “Really, I didn’t- well, I didn’t think anything like this would happen. It was just a little gift.”

“These things are complicated,” Charlotte says quietly. “Apparently there were strings attached.”

There’s a long silence. “Should we do this, then?” Claire finally asks. She’s pale, and her gentle resolve is finally starting to crack.

“Claire,” Duke says, a crease appearing in his forehead. He turns to Audrey. “If you hold her hand or something, could you bring her back with you? Save her life?”

Audrey shakes her head. “I wish I could. It’s not how it works. I can carry over items, but not people. I don’t know why.” _(Sister Catherine, who once attempted and failed to save Joanne Rasmussen by this route.)_

“It’s all right,” Claire says softly, but she’s wringing her hands. “If it’s the right thing for Haven, then I’ll do it.” She looks at Audrey. “I was there when you went into the Barn, when you gave up everything to save Haven. Now I suppose it’s my turn.” She hugs Audrey tightly, then Nathan and Duke. “I don’t want to… I’ll go wait for it in the kitchen. It’s okay, Audrey. I’m okay. Goodbye.” With that, she turns and walks with remarkable poise out of sight.

“I really don’t want to be doing this,” Nathan says quietly to Duke. “I want to be at home, petting Freckles and bitching about paperwork and having dumb arguments about the waffle iron. I hate that I might be losing you.”

“Nathan, if you could get rid of me, you would have. Years ago,” Duke replies.

“Okay, no,” Audrey says impatiently. “Go canoodle in the foyer if you must.” They obediently walk out of earshot.

“Are you ready?” Charlotte asks.

Audrey checks her jacket pocket for the correct number of envelopes, cradles the plastic bag with Claire’s box and Duke’s letters to her chest. “I guess.” Nathan and Duke are whispering to each other, foreheads touching, saying whatever it is they have to say to each other at the end.

“Are you sure?” Mario asks. “There’s no re-doing it.”

Audrey swallows. “I’m sure. Do it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be one more chapter and an epilogue.


	8. It's Time I Had Some Time Alone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I realize that Audrey/Nathan is an almost sacred ship in this fandom, but alas I am not onboard. If you want to ask me why I wrote this chapter the way I did, or about any of the issues in that specific scene, I am more than willing to talk about it, and will in fact probably respond with an essay to any questions because I am that variety of nerd. 
> 
> Once again, if you're a fan of both Haven and Lost, you should hit me up. 
> 
> This is the last full chapter! There will be an epilogue, which I plan to post Sunday.

The world rushes around her for an instant, and then she’s sitting in the passenger seat of the Bronco.

Nathan’s beside her, looking questioningly out the window, where Mario Burns is sitting in his own car, window rolled down, staring frozen at them.

She’s clutching the bag in her arms. The teenager with the car problem is driving off, but still in sight. The past three days are gone. It worked.

“Sir? Do you need something?” Nathan asks.

“Detective Wuornos,” Mario sighs, “I’m so sorry.”

“He doesn’t remember,” Audrey says, surprised by the tremble in her voice. “It’s over, Mario. Thanks for the help.”

Mario nods tentatively. “Okay. Have a good- actually, it sounded like you’re both gonna have a bad day, so… Really sorry.” He looks distressed and awkward.

“It’s okay, Mario. You can go now,” Audrey sighs. Mario, relieved, drives off.

Nathan studies her for a long moment, presumably noting her different clothes, package, general filthiness, and scraped face and hands.

“Reality-altering Trouble?” he asks.

Rather than replying, Audrey catches herself off guard and bursts into tears. The tears quickly develop into giant, wracking, gasping sobs that might actually be pulling muscles on the way out. She buries her face in her hands, unable to stop a long wail from escaping.

Nathan pats her awkwardly on the arm, but she doesn’t have to look at him to know he has absolutely no idea how to handle this.

She lets it go for another minute or so- the loud, ugly crying that she’s not even sure how long she’s been holding in- and then forces herself to rein it in. She pares it down to quieter weeping, and then to sniffling with hiccups.

“Okay,” Audrey finally says, wiping her face and sitting up straight. She clears her throat. “I think I’m done.”

Nathan’s staring at her, more baffled than seems fair, given that he’s even worse at handling his own emotions than she is.

His voice is nonetheless gentle when he asks, “What do you need?”

“A nap,” Audrey says decisively. “I am going to take a nap. And then you and I are going to have an unpleasant conversation, and then I am going to get rip-roaring drunk.”

Nathan blinks, clearly still lost, but just says, “Okay. I’ll drop you at the Gull.” The drive there is only a couple minutes long, and silent, while Audrey ruefully examines her face in the mirror of the sun visor. She’s splotchy, and Duke’s gonna spot it a mile off if she runs into him.

Nathan parks the truck next to the stairs that lead to her apartment. Duke is nowhere in sight.

“Do you want me to stay?” he asks, but there’s reserve in his eyes.

Audrey shakes her head. “No. I’ll see you later, okay?” Nathan nods and she climbs out of the truck, walking quickly up the stairs. Duke doesn’t come out, which is not surprising- they still work Troubles together near-constantly, but he hasn’t sought social contact since Mara. He doesn’t trust her. She’s not sure he should.

She closes the door to her apartment and throws the two deadbolts, fights the urge to sink into the couch, walks to the bed, drops the package and jacket on the floor and collapses fully clothed. She’s asleep in seconds.

* * *

 

It’s mid-afternoon when Audrey wakes up again. She’s been asleep for five hours and finally feels more ready to deal with reality.

She gets out of bed, washes her face, and methodically pulls Claire’s box out of the plastic bag. It’s a shoe box, the lid loosely taped on with mustache-patterned duct tape. Audrey smirks at it and peels back the tape, opening the box.

It’s another push-up bra, with puffy fabric paint on it. Audrey pulls it out, her mouth tugging into what might be a smile.

The outside of the left cup says ‘It was the right thing to do’ and the right cup says ‘Don’t ever doubt it’. ‘Love, Claire’ is inscribed along the band. There are some multicolored flowers surrounding the letters.

Audrey lets the grin take over her face. Leave it to Claire to be a great shrink in the most unprofessional way possible.

Her clothes are still filthy with fallen building, so she throws them all into the hamper, takes a quick shower, and then puts on the bra from Claire (as well as several other garments). She takes a few minutes to breathe, to remind herself of all the reasons she’s doing this, and then she picks up the phone.

“Feeling better?” Nathan asks, picking up after half a ring.

“Yeah,” Audrey says, but his voice causes a pit to form in her stomach for what she’s about to do. She has to force the words, “Can we meet at your place?”

“Something wrong? Or right?” the last part is said lasciviously.

“Wrong, but it’s not urgent,” Audrey replies.

Nathan hesitates. “Okay. I’ll meet you there in twenty minutes.”

“Okay. See you soon,” Audrey says, and hangs up. She paces her apartment for a few minutes before the nervous tension gets overwhelming. She throws on her jacket and leaves her apartment, jogging down the wooden stairs to the parking lot.

Duke’s there, a large crate in his hands, and he turns at the sound. Caught off guard, his first expression is one of trepidation before he manages to smooth it over with a well-practiced, easygoing look.

“Hi, Duke,” Audrey says, resigned.

He raises an eyebrow. “What happened to you?”

“Hm? Oh, I was in a building collapse,” Audrey says.

“We had a building collapse?” Duke asks.

She shakes her head. “Not anymore. Reality-altering Trouble. It’s been a long day.”

Duke nods sagely. “Ah. I wasn’t a cop this time, right?”

Audrey smirks at him. “Not any more so than usual.”

“You wound me,” Duke says, and he does still genuinely look a little offended, even if he does routinely introduce himself as a Haven PD Consultant now.

“Mm, sorry. You are definitely still a bad boy, even if you put as many hours into doing my job as I do. Everyone is in awe and a bit afraid of your rebel maverick ways. I need a favor,” Audrey says.

The suspicious look makes a brief comeback. “What kind of favor?”

“Can you keep an eye on Nathan over the next few days?” Audrey asks quietly. “I’m not gonna tell you yet what or why, but just…”

Duke raises an eyebrow. “Is he in danger or just more miserable than usual?”

Audrey winces. “The latter. I have to go.” She turns, begins to walk toward her car.

“Huh. I figured it’d have to get a lot worse. Some kind of breaking point,” Duke says, stopping her in her tracks.

He knows. OF course he knows. Damn him. She turns back and says fiercely, “It’s going to break us both if I let us keep doing this. It’s not working. Nobody’s happy.”

Duke smiles sadly at her. “Yeah. Denial is a powerful force. Been working- well, not wonders, but something- so far.”

“Not wonders,” Audrey agrees. “I love him, but…”

“But he only loves Audrey Parker?” Duke asks, with that wince-grin he puts on when he’s trying to pretend he’s fine.

“I know what you’re getting at, but no, I don’t think that’s true,” Audrey replies, probably with a wince-grin of her own. “I have to go. If I chicken out… I have to go.”

“Okay. You drink free at the Gull tonight,” Duke offers.

“Nah, give it to Nathan. He’ll need it more than I will.”

* * *

 

Nathan’s front door is unlocked when she tries it, so she walks in.

“Hey,” he says, getting up to wrap her in a hug. “Hungry?”

She is, actually- her last meal was an omelet prepared by Chris Brody- but she doesn’t want to deal with the possible distraction technique, so she shakes her head.

She has no idea how to start. ‘We need to talk’ is far too cliché, and she doesn’t think they even make words for this situation.

Finally, Audrey just blurts, “This relationship is making us both miserable and it’s not going to get better.”

Nathan freezes, staring at her.

The silence stretches on too long, so she tries again. “Nathan, this isn’t working. Who you are doesn’t work with who I am.”

“That’s not true,” Nathan finally says, voice already frantic. “We work great together, Parker.”

Audrey nods. “We’re good at dealing with the Troubles. We’re great partners. But this- Nathan, this is hurting us both.”

“No,” Nathan says, shaking his head. “I love you.”

“You don’t even know me!” Audrey points out. “It’s not your fault- hell, I don’t know me either- but you don’t _want_ to.”

“I do know you!” Nathan says, rushing toward her and grabbing both her hands. “You’re Audrey Prudence Parker. You love bad romance novels and cupcakes and you’re the one who saves the day.”

“That’s true,” Audrey says. “And I’m Mara.”

“You’re not. Mara’s dead.”

Audrey frowns at him. “You don’t get to tell me who I am. That’s what we did, Nathan. We put all the puzzle pieces together. I’m Audrey, and Lucy, and Sarah. And Mara.”

Nathan shakes his head again. “No.” His voice is low and stubborn.

“I am, Nathan,” she says quietly. “I created your Trouble. I did this to the town. I nearly killed Duke. Just because I’m Audrey too doesn’t undo that.”

“Mara’s dead,” Nathan says again. “Just because you have her memories-”

“I’m one person. With all of the parts. If Mara’s dead, Audrey is too. There’s just me,” she says. “And you don’t get to date just one part of me. It doesn’t work like that.”

“You’re Audrey. I know. I’m in love with Audrey.”

She gives him a tired look. “The Barn-induced figment you knew for five months and never dated? Sorry. That’s- that’s part of who I am- a big part- but we both know it’s not the whole picture. I can’t change who I am just to make this relationship work, and neither can you.”

Nathan rears back slightly. “I’m giving up everything for you! What more do you want from me?!”

“I don’t want that! I never wanted that!” Audrey replies, frustrated. “I don’t want to be the sword you’re falling on!”

“What happened today?” Nathan asks abruptly. “The reality-altering Trouble. That’s what brought this on. Did I do something?”

Audrey gives him an exasperated look at the bad attempt at misdirection, but answers. “You were _happy_. You were contentedly not in love with me and it didn’t feel like we were lying to each other.”

“I’m not lying to you,” Nathan replies urgently.

“Only because you’re lying to yourself more!” Audrey exclaims. “Nathan, you’re not the kind of guy who does this. You’re not the kind of guy who dates a woman like me.”

“A woman who saves lives on a daily basis?”

“A woman with the kind of past that I have,” Audrey says.

Nathan flinches, but even he can’t deny much of that. “I can be. I will be.”

“No, you can’t,” Audrey says quietly. “Nathan, it’s not who you are.”

“What do you want?” Nathan asks weakly. “Just tell me what you want.”

“I don’t know what I want, but I need some time- some time to figure out who I am, without all the extra pressure,” Audrey sighs, looking away from him. “I can’t be your dream girl. I need to figure out who I am. Who I want to be. And I can’t do that when there’s so much of me you can’t-”

“Okay,” Nathan says slowly, a bit of hope creeping back into his voice. “You want to take a break?”

“No. I don’t know. No,” Audrey says, unsure whether to even take the risk of imagining something like that. “I want to be happy. I want you to be happy. I don’t think this is gonna do it.”

“I love you!” Nathan says, rather loudly and a bit hysterically.

“Yes, but you also can’t stand me,” Audrey says quietly, eyes on a hand-stitched throw pillow she never got around to mocking him for. “Not the real me. And I can’t- I can’t do this.”

“Did I do something?” Nathan asks.

She has been very cordial about this, but the annoyance is coming fast. “No. Well, yes, but that’s not why I’m doing this. At least mostly not why I’m doing this. It’s not the point.”

Nathan, predictably, latches anyway. “What did I do?” he demands.

Audrey grits her teeth. There are too many things she could say here- the fact that when he shot Howard he took away her choice over her own destiny, the point that he arguably murdered her son, the fact that he’s declared himself the sole arbiter of her identity, and she could probably think of a few more things if she pushed herself. But it’s all beside the point.

“It doesn’t matter,” she finally says, pushing the annoyance back down. “I’m not doing this because of anything you did. I’m doing this because of who we are.”

Nathan stares at her for a second. Abruptly, he says, “Just forget about the reality-altering Trouble. It’s gone. It doesn’t matter.”

“No, I suppose it doesn’t,” Audrey says coolly, “but we still do. I’m tired of this limbo. I’m tired of wondering what I’m going to do to make you realize you can’t be with me. I’m tired of the stonewalling and those terrified looks you send me when you let the façade drop. The truth is, we’ve been in a glacial breakup for weeks now. And I’m _tired_ of you telling me you love me like that’s going to fix it all when we both know it’s not.”

Nathan stares at her, eyes wide. He’s even paler than usual. “Look me in the eyes and tell me you don’t love me.”

Under different circumstances, she’d consider rolling her eyes, because he is still a world away from the point. Instead, she just sighs minutely and says, “I do. But it’s not enough, for either of us. Look me in the eyes and tell me this relationship isn’t destroying you from the inside out.”

Nathan says nothing for a long time. She’s tempted to break the silence, but decides to wait him out. Finally he says, “We should sit down.”

They’ve been standing in his foyer, arguing loudly for the past twenty minutes. She follows him to the living room and curls up in her favorite armchair. He sits stiffly on the couch.

“You’re serious about this,” he says finally. He’s subdued now. “You want to break up.”

Audrey nods. “Yes.”

He grimaces in the direction of his knees. “You’re sure?”

“Yes.”

“I’m not sure I can-” Nathan stops mid-sentence, then starts again. “I don’t want to lose your touch. It was bad enough when I thought it would end, but now-” He grimaces again. “But I can’t keep that and not-” He hesitates, struggling with wording.

She bails him out, because sometimes he requires an interpreter. “This breakup might cost you the only touch you have, and that’s terrifying. I know.”

“It was never just your immunity,” he promises.

Audrey smiles at him. “I know. If it was just the immunity, you’d be pursuing my mother. Point of interest: if you ever pursue my mother, I will shoot your balls off.” She considers recent information and adds, “That goes for William, too.”

Nathan makes a face. “Not a problem.”

She contemplates for a while. “I could alter it,” she says slowly. He gives her a look of shocked revulsion. “But I’m on the wagon, so I won’t,” she adds pointedly. “You’re more than just your Trouble. You’re more than me.”

“I’m not sure I am,” he admits quietly.

Audrey raises her eyebrows. “You’re saying things like that and it hadn’t occurred to you that our relationship might be unhealthy.”

Nathan doesn’t reply, but casts an ashamed look at the floor that assures her that the thought has, indeed, spent some time lodged in his skull.

“You are,” Audrey says. “So much more. You’ve put away a lot of who you are to try to make this work. Which is too bad, because we really need someone like who you’d otherwise be.”

Nathan gives her a questioning look.

She searches for the words. “Claire called you a moral absolutist. You’re the one who can see, clearly, what’s right and wrong- past the complications and the circumstances and the bullshit. We’re not like that. Duke’s all about circumstances, shades of gray. Dwight’ll fix the situation with the least damage possible. I… have no idea what I am, really, but it fluctuates a lot and we should not count on it at this point. You know how easy it would be for us to take the easy fix too many times, rack up too much collateral damage and never blink? Never realize we’d become the bad guys until it was already too late? Yeah, we need people who can deal with a situation with no right answers. We need people who can do what we do. But we also need someone like you, who can see the right thing from the wrong thing. You once gave up the chance to be rid of your Trouble because someone else needed it more. You think any one of us would have done that? Wouldn’t’ve even crossed our minds! We _need_ someone who sees the world like you do.”

Nathan’s quiet, looking at his hands, for a long moment. She wonders how long he’s needed this pep talk.

“And you think I can’t do that and be with you,” Nathan says, subdued, looking back up at her. She gives him an exasperated look and he looks away, conceding the point. He sighs. “This is really happening.”

Audrey nods. “On some level, you knew it was going to.”

“Not now,” Nathan points out. “I didn’t think it’d be yet.”

She’s sure that this is the most honest they’ve been about their relationship in weeks, possibly ever.

“Me neither. I didn’t want any more instability in my life,” Audrey confesses. “I knew eventually you’d either end it or destroy yourself, but I thought- I guess I thought I’ve already given up too many people I loved.”

There’ve been so many, over the years. So many people she’s given up because saving Haven was more important. So many faces that invoke a long-forgotten yearning. She’ll never get any of them back. At least Nathan won’t be gone.

“What do you want to do about work?” Audrey asks.

Nathan makes a face she can’t quite parse. “Some space, for a while.”

“I’ll talk to Dwight,” Audrey says, nodding. “But there are gonna be emergencies.”

Nathan snorts. “Daily. I know. I’ll deal.”

Things have been awkward between them before, but they’ve never let it interfere with saving the town. She’s not too concerned. “I want us to be okay. Eventually.”

“You gonna destroy the town?”

It startles a short laugh out of her. “No. Well, not on purpose.”

Nathan nods seriously. “Good. Was concerned by all the talk of you being Mara.”

“Oh,” Audrey says. “Well, I have… impulses, sometimes, the occasional spurt of rage, but I’m not on a destructive bent or anything.”

Nathan clearly still does not want to know this. “Good, I guess.”

“It’s never going to be enough,” she says, voice heavy. “I’m never going to do enough good to outweigh the horrible things I’ve done.” _(Audrey Parker, whose Catholic upbringing had predicated forgiveness on restitution.)_

“You’ve changed. It’s not nothing,” Nathan says quietly. “And we always figure it out.”

It’s bravado, but she appreciates it nonetheless. “Yeah. I’m pretty sure I’ve worked under weirder conditions.”

The silence hangs and she’s trying to figure out how to phrase this goodbye when he says, so quietly she doesn’t understand it for a moment, “I tried so hard to make this work.”

She sighs. “Me too. I really thought…”

“I know,” Nathan replies.

Audrey didn’t expect him to accept any of this. She accepted raging and grand romantic gestures and probably some annoying manipulation here and there. She never thought he’d understand as completely as he does.

Nathan might be more self-aware than any of them have been giving him credit for. On the other hand, maybe he’s just spent the past several weeks not quite avoiding the thought of walking away.

“I’m gonna go,” Audrey says. She wants to say something that will make it all okay, something that will salvage their friendship in this wreckage, but once again, there’s nothing. She turns away from him and opens the door.

“See you tomorrow, Parker,” Nathan returns as she steps out of his house- and maybe those are the right words, but she’s not sure yet. The door closes and the relief that sweeps over her is only slightly tempered by the guilt.

* * *

 

From Nathan’s, Audrey methodically visits Rosemary’s, where she gets a dozen cupcakes for free because she saved the clerk from a gremlin once, and then the Rust Bucket, where she curls up in a corner booth with her cupcakes and a martini- possibly overcharged, as the bartender is a woman who looks at her like one might look at Genghis Khan.

A few people come up to her, ranging from concerned to desperate, about their new Troubles. She explains, politely at first and then less so, that she cannot fix them right now. She is off the clock, for once in her life, and she needs this.

Finally, the bartender rather reluctantly starts warning them away, giving them the number for the station and the Guard, letting her wallow by herself. She stares into her glass, alternating between unsuccessfully trying to process it all and unsuccessfully trying not to think about anything. This martini is not strong enough to deal with the black hole of fucked-up that is her life, but she downs it and orders another. By the third, the bartender is beginning to look slightly more sympathetic.

When she looks up again, midway through the third martini and the fourth cupcake, Dwight is standing there watching with a raised eyebrow.

“It’s three-thirty. On a Tuesday,” Dwight points out unnecessarily. “And you live above a bar- a better bar than this.”

“I work constantly. Give me this,” Audrey replies grumpily. She then remembers that she was supposed to talk to him and sighs. “Sorry. Sit down.”

Dwight raises an eyebrow but folds his enormous body into the opposite side of the booth. “Something I should know about?”

“Nathan and I would prefer not to work with each other right now,” Audrey admits quietly, studying the pattern of the frosting.

Dwight’s quiet for a moment, but it’s a tense, guarded kind of silence. “What did you do?” he asks finally, tone remarkably even.

She looks at him then, raising an eyebrow. “I broke up with him.”

Dwight sits back a fraction. “What did he do?”

“Nothing. It wasn’t working,” she says.

“Uh-huh. So, no particular reason why it’s now?” Dwight asks carefully, and she scowls at him.

“There was a Trouble that… showed me how things could have been different, but it’s gone now,” Audrey says. “Jordan said to tell you hi.”

A blaze of emotion crosses Dwight’s face, there and gone before Audrey can interpret any of it. His face is carefully blank and his voice is carefully neutral when he asks, “Jordan?”

“She was there,” Audrey confirms. “She was… She kicked a lot of ass and got through it without her Trouble activating.” She remembers, suddenly, the letter in her pocket and makes a quick decision. “Actually… Look, I had to go back. I had to tell her… I had to tell her that she died, here. She wrote a letter to Grady Moore, asked me to deliver it.” Audrey pulls the letter in its awkward handmade envelope and sets it on the table. “I didn’t tell her about Grady. I didn’t want to risk activating her Trouble. She’d had a bad enough couple of days. So now I have this letter and I don’t know if it’s worse to read it and violate her privacy or ignore it and let her last message go unheard, but… Either way, I guess I’m not the right person to make that call.” She slides the note to Dwight, whose dispassionate expression is cracking.

He picks it up, fingers shaking slightly. “Her handwriting,” he notes quietly. He slides it, unopened, into his pocket. “Thanks. For… trying to take care of her.” The suspicion in his eyes is actually even stronger now, and she suspects he’s running through the mental list of all the reasons he’ll still never trust her, starting with the heinous things she once said about his daughter.

Audrey smiles bitterly, drinking the rest of her martini and signaling the bartender for a fourth. “Yeah. There was a lot less- well, Jordan and I didn’t have any history, and it turns out that I actually like her.” Audrey remembers something and smirks at him. “She called Charlotte a pod person.”

“ _Jordan_ and _Charlotte_ -” Dwight repeats, slightly horrified. He quickly catches himself, schooling his face back into an impassive mask. “Charlotte’s also immune, so they met.”

“Oh, yeah. Charlotte called her…” Audrey pauses, searching for the exact phrasing, “‘impulsive and extremely angry,’ I believe it was. You should ask her about it.”

Dwight is looking like he’d rather anywhere but here and says nothing. Martini number four shows up and Audrey sips it, letting herself enjoy his suffering.

He doesn’t leave, which impresses her in the vaguely irritated way she’s always impressed by Dwight. He sits there and watches.

“If you’re going to stay, want a cupcake?” she finally offers, after polishing off her own.

Dwight sends a longing look at the pastries, but shakes his head. “I know better than to deprive a woman of her comfort food, especially fresh off a bad split.”

She squints at him. “Is that your attempt at Good-Cop? Lame.”

He shrugs and snags a cupcake- funfetti with sprinkles, which amuses her somewhat. “Fine. Contrary to popular belief, I am your boss. You gonna be able to do the job?”

“Yes.” As always, it’s the one thing that isn’t in doubt.

Dwight nods. “Who do you want to work with?”

“Uh,” Audrey says eloquently, brow wrinkling. It’s an unexpectedly hard question. Nathan’s her awkward ex, Duke does not trust her, Dwight does not trust her and is boffing her mother, her mother is a cold stranger and everything is complicated, Rebecca might genuinely try to kill her and Stan is nice but afraid of cartoons. “Is Gloria at all an option?”

Dwight smirks, looking very high and mighty for a man with a dab of frosting on his nose. “We’ll see.” He finishes the cupcake, then adds, “I’m assuming that the fact that you’re here means Nathan got Duke in the split and I can just leave them together.”

Audrey snorts. “Yeah, for now.” As soon as she passes them their love letters, Nathan’s going to default to awkward and avoidant and Dwight’s going to have even more scheduling issues.

“It sounds like your day’s sucked. You gonna be all right?” he asks this gruffly, and she’s genuinely uncertain if he actually cares.

“Oh, yeah. Alcohol and sugar. I’ll be good to go as soon as the hangover clears,” Audrey says flippantly. Dwight raises a single eyebrow of disbelief, and she scowls at him. “Look, it doesn’t matter, all right? Today sucked on multiple levels. I’m fighting against an insurmountable tsunami of awful pretty much every waking moment and even on the off chance I beat it I’m not gonna get redemption because it was my tsunami in the first place. I just got one of my best friends back from the dead for three days and then lost her again. My other best friends are alive but can barely look at me, which is fair, because I can barely deal with who I am and even then mostly by avoidance. Oh, and that breakup with the guy I genuinely thought was my forever. So no, I am not all right, but there’s nothing you can say, all right? So don’t. There’s nothing you can say that will make me feel better about who I am or what’s happening. There’s nothing you can say that’s gonna fix anything, especially me. There’s nothing you can say I haven’t heard before. There’s just- there’s nothing you can say.”

And, okay, she’s definitely too tipsy, because she’s having a frustrated rant at Dwight, but it releases the tension in her chest by a fraction.

Dwight reaches out and very tenderly takes both of her hands. He looks at her solemnly and says, “Your mom’s a size queen.”

Audrey yelps and jerks her hands back, knocking over her martini. She kicks him viciously in the shin. Dwight winces, but he’s also chuckling.

“What the hell?! I’m the drunk one! You can’t do that!” she squeaks, grabbing a napkin and trying to clean up her drink with some shred of dignity. “Asshole.”

Dwight smirks at her. “Thanks for the cupcake.” He gets up and walks away. She stares after him, a little incredulously.

It doesn’t occur to her until two martinis later that maybe she’s finally made a step toward forgiveness.

* * *

 

The next two weeks are divided between saving Haven and being aggressively single. Audrey creates a list of all the Troubles in the alternate timeline that they might have to deal with again; stops the shadows from devouring them all; drinks a lot; swears off alcohol; has to defuse the false superhero situation again; watches a terrified Stan successfully talk down Gretchen Forland without violence to her or her pigs; eats an entire tub of red velvet ice cream at a mandatory police meeting; gets trapped in a basement when the door vanishes and has to call for help via parrot; bemoans the fact that all of her gal pals are dead, amnesiacs, or unwilling to be on this continent; helps Duke add yet more deadbolts to his restaurant; changes her mind about alcohol; has an increasingly loud debate with Rebecca about _Lost_ ; hits a Revling with a chair; shoots Satan with a rocket launcher; exchanges phone numbers with six different members of the Guard; and goes to Portland to enter and thereupon win an amateur strip night.

It’s a long two weeks, but by the end of it, it feels like her life again.

Tuesday morning is oddly quiet, other than an incident with a Basilisk emerging from the middle school and swallowing a Belgian draft horse whole before Audrey could talk down the fourth-grade nerd responsible. At noon, Audrey’s back at the station, making a dent in her giant pile of creativity paperwork.

She’s sharing an office with Stan, and happens to be looking up when Duke walks past the door with a to-go box from the Gull.

“Hey,” she calls.

Duke stops and tosses her a grin that might be a fraction more natural than before. “So, how’re you?”

“Okay, I think,” she says, although she’s never really sure anymore. “The food’s for Nathan?”

Duke nods. “Trying out a new recipe at the Gull. I’m not sure if the mustard sauce is too sweet, so I’m shamelessly using Nathan for his enhanced sense of taste before it gets to the actual food critics.”

Audrey raises a single eyebrow. “Wow, you’ve been having Nathan test a lot of new recipes lately. Strange time for a menu overhaul.”

Duke shrugs. “Yeah, well, the market’s getting tougher- okay, okay, stop giving me that look. We both know he’d be living off of black coffee, pancakes and _vending machine food_ if we let him. Let me have my cover story.”

Audrey’s lips are twitching at his righteous indignation at the thought of Nathan living off of vending machines. “I won’t tell a soul. How is he?”

“Eh, you know. Trying to prove that he’s a strong independent man who don’t need no woman.”

Audrey smirks. “Okay, now that you’ve gotten that joke out of the way, seriously, how is he?”

Duke leans on the doorframe, glancing around the hallway. “He’s not really saying, obviously, but I think he’s pretty relieved. And hating himself for being relieved. And a whole host of other things, but he’s holding together. I expected it to be worse- more drinking, maybe another Misery Beard- but he’s okay.”

“He has you,” Audrey says.

“He does,” Duke agrees, something in his voice giving more weight to the statement than Audrey originally intended. He apparently hears it too, and tries to cover by asking, “You really okay?”

“Yeah,” Audrey says, more confidently this time. “Look, there is another thing.”

Duke looks slightly alarmed. “What kind of thing?”

“Can I meet both of you at the Rouge tonight so we can all have an awkward conversation?” Audrey asks, an artificial breeziness to her voice. It’s too soon, uncomfortably soon, but she did make a promise.

Duke hesitates. “Okay, I’ll let him know. Seven?”

* * *

 

Audrey’s there half an hour early because everywhere else was getting claustrophobic.

Not that the Cape Rouge is entirely comfortable, either. She sits in Duke’s kitchen, fidgeting constantly- picking at her nails, shifting her clothes, fiddling with Duke’s jar of potpourri. She spent weeks imprisoned on this boat, and though she knows it was necessary, knows she deserved all of it, she can’t relax here now. She’s not sure how she handled it in the other reality.

“You wanna go on the deck? It’s cold, but the sunset’s nice,” Duke suggests lightly.

Audrey’s out of her chair before the “Yes!” even makes it out of her mouth.

“Right. Well, I’ll finish dinner and meet you up there,” Duke says as Audrey grabs the plastic bag with the letters and jogs up the stairs.

It is cold, and Audrey quickly wishes she’d brought more than her light jacket, but she’s not going back down into her once-prison, so she sits down and curls her knees against her chest, watching the waves.

Duke comes up a few minutes later with blankets and a couple of thick sweaters, one of which she snags. It smells like him- seawater, soap and cinnamon. He goes back below decks, wordlessly, to finish with the food.

Nathan turns up a few minutes later, looking anxious. He doesn’t say anything either, but sits tensely in the chair across from her.

Duke returns, acting jovial in a way they all know is an act, handing out plates and casserole that smells delicious and swings casually into the remaining chair. “So what’s going on?”

Audrey takes a deep breath. “Okay, first of all, Nathan- we broke up for our own reasons. Our relationship was unhealthy and it wasn’t working with who we are as people, and none of the additional information in this conversation is going to change any of that.”

Nathan raises his eyebrows. “Stipulated.”

She nods decisively and takes a moment to search for the right words. She gives up and asks, “Did you two use to have sex?”

Nathan freezes like he’s just seen a bear.

“Wha- with each other?” Duke asks.

“Ye-es,” Audrey replies.

“Have you completely lost your mind?”

“No more so than usual. Stop dodging the question and answer it,” Audrey orders.

Duke winces, his bluff having been called. He glances sideways at Nathan and mutters, “Sorry, man, I tried.”

Nathan ignores this and says quietly, “Yeah. A long time ago.”

She thought she was prepared for this, but it still kind of hits her in the stomach. “And neither of you, at any point, thought it might be relevant for me to know that?!”

“No,” Nathan says, getting his Stubborn Voice out. “It’s not relevant. It was years ago and it wasn’t really even relevant then.”

Duke winces, but Nathan’s not looking his way.

“Uh-huh,” Audrey says, sighing. “Mario Burns’ Trouble is that he can give people supernatural gifts. He works as a lab tech at Haven Clinic. He’s familiar with your Trouble, Nathan, and thinks you’re a lovely public servant who doesn’t deserve such a thing, so he retroactively went back and made sure it didn’t activate. I’m guessing the activation was when you broke up.”

Duke nods and says quietly, “Nathan ended it.”

Nathan, who’s giving a surly look at his shoes, snorts quietly.

Duke gives him an incredulous look. “What, you’re gonna go rewriting history on that one too? You broke it off.”

“Probably technically true,” Nathan says, still not looking up. “Preemptive strike.”

“What?” Duke asks, genuinely sounding caught off guard.

Nathan scowls. “Wasn’t exactly qualified for fun-and-easy anymore.”

“Yeah, because up until that point-” Duke apparently realizes that this is the opposite of helpful, and with some visible difficulty, reins it in. “Look, I get that I activated your Trouble and you have a right to be pissed and all, but don’t tell me what I wanted.”

“You were the one saying it didn’t ‘have to mean anything’ every ten minutes!” Nathan says.

“You were a cop; I was a felon. We weren’t allowed to want anything else,” Duke points out.

“No shit,” Nathan says quietly. “But I did anyway, and for a second, I thought-” the sentence twists off roughly.

Audrey squints at him, trying to track where that thought was going, and she asks quietly, “Did you think he was asking you out?”

Nathan winces immediately, turning away from them both and giving her the answer.

Duke blinks. “What?”

Nathan does not respond, so Audrey jumps in and quietly says, “You’d had a hate-sex thing going on for years, but we all know Nathan’s never been one for casual. You come back into town after a long time away and immediately ask him to go fishing with you, even though you do not actually fish. Yeah, it’s pretty reasonable to interpret that as a date… but it wasn’t.”

Duke’s gaping and look deeply horrified. “Shit,” he whispers. “Oh, shit, I fucked up everything.”

Audrey’s always wondered why a fight between frenemies was enough to trigger Nathan’s Trouble, when it usually requires some kind of trauma, but now that the mystery’s solved she just feels hollow.

Nathan’s voice is working hard at being emotionless when he says, “It was stupid. I knew better.”

“Fuck,” Duke whispers. “Nate…”

Audrey clears her throat and focuses on Nathan. “Anyway, in Mario Burns’ Trouble reality, your Trouble didn’t activate that night, and you didn’t break it off. Eventually I turned up in Haven, figured it out, and coerced you into asking him out. He accepted. And it worked, because when I turned up there two weeks ago, you were a couple. So you’d been dating for a year and a half, and you were living together, here on the Rouge, and everyone knew.”

Nathan blinks. “Oh.” Duke says nothing, just continues to look rather crushed.

Audrey nods. “As a result of this, some other things were different. Notably, you did not bang Sarah and as a result Arla Cogan didn’t kill anybody we know. Claire was there. Also, I more successfully kept you away from the Barn when I went into it. When I showed up, the Troubles were in remission. Jordan was alive, and so was everyone else who died of the Troubles post-Barn. But the Trouble-bomb Troubles came through too, and started activating, and everyone started panicking. They’d just started rebuilding; they weren’t ready. The Guard wasn’t active, wasn’t prepared to deal with it- no one was. It got worse and worse and eventually we had to undo it. You made me promise to tell you the truth. Tell you that you were together, and happy- which you were, by the way. You were so good together it actually hurt my feelings. You were both just-” she sighs. “It worked. You worked. I didn’t want to leave, I didn’t want to take it from you, but it got too bad. So I promised to tell you and I promised to bring you these.”

The letters are in a plastic bag at her feet, so she pulls them up and passes them out. They both reach out and take them wordlessly. Duke fiddles with both of his- the thick manila envelope and the little white one- folding them over in his hands.

“They’re letters, from you,” Audrey explains. “I can try to answer any questions you have, even though I don’t want to. You could ask Charlotte too, but she’s not helpful. Other points of interest: Nathan, you came out to the Chief.”

Nathan winces. “Oh no.”

Audrey snorts. “No, it was okay. He told you it didn’t merit interrupting his baseball game. He was fine with it, until you told him you were dating Duke, at which point he apparently threw a tantrum.”

Nathan looks surprised, but there’s a smile twitching at the edges of his mouth.

“Let’s see… Oh, everyone parted on decent terms with Jordan. Nathan, you never slept with her or really had any interaction with her at all, which helped things a lot. She actually volunteered to give you a blood donation at one point. Duke, you got to call Evi and Wade and tell them goodbye.”

Duke was unable to call Evi and she doesn’t know if he called Wade, but at this point it doesn’t matter, so the lie feels kind. The reassured nod he gives her confirms it.

Audrey does a review of everything that happened, those three days spent in another life. “Okay, I think that’s all I have to tell you right now, so I’m going to go.” She gets up and shrugs Duke’s sweater off in one fluid motion before moving to the ladder. Not to her surprise, Nathan is right behind her. She climbs off the boat, fully ready to go home and finish off her cupcakes, when something stops her in her tracks.

“Oh my god, Freckles!” Audrey exclaims.

Freckles the cat is sitting on the dock, swishing her tail and giving Audrey a very annoyed look. Audrey wonders- not for the first time, incidentally- whether cats have some immunity to the supernatural goings-on of the town.

Audrey picks up the cat, who is remarkably okay with this given that she should be relatively feral. Freckles head-butts her into giving a few ear scratches.

“Guys, this is your cat!” Audrey calls. Nathan’s on the ladder, and she can see Duke move toward them curiously. “This is Freckles! The other Nathan made you adopt her, and Duke, you made her gourmet cat food out of leftovers from the Gull…” As soon as Nathan reaches the deck, Freckles jumps from her arms to go rub against his ankles. Nathan stares at her bemusedly.

Duke clambers onto the dock much more quickly than either of them, scoffs at Nathan, and picks up the cat.

“Heh, she kind of does look like she has freckles,” he observes, making out the spots on the cat’s nose even in the twilight. Freckles nudges at his hand, but he doesn’t pet her, so she huffily jumps from his arms into Nathan’s.

Nathan pets her, gingerly at first and then more casually when she starts loudly purring. He smiles, genuinely, when she stretches comfortably in his arms.

“I’ll keep her,” he declares, much to Audrey’s complete lack of surprise. To further the extent to which Nathan is a giant dork, he then immediately begins baby-talking her again. “Yes, hello, sweetie, I’ll get you a nice cat bed and maybe even some catnip if you use it responsibly…”

“And on that note, I’m going home,” Audrey says. Neither of them react- Nathan too busy crooning at his cat and Duke too busy giving Nathan a look full of incredulity and a little wonder.

She walks away.


	9. Epilogue: Another Life (And This One)

It’s not as awkward as it could be, and that’s what Duke keeps telling himself.

Things with Audrey are actually getting a little easier. Now that she’s away from the constant task of living up to Nathan’s expectations, she’s acting more naturally, not working as hard at keeping up an act all the time. Although she’s occasionally a little harsher, says a couple of things that sound more like Mara than Audrey, the genuineness makes Duke feel better. If there’s one thing Mara never was, it was genuine.

The town continues to hold together, to weather its constant storms, and that’s good too.

Duke’s cleaning up his restaurant. Some of his staff have started laughing at him a little- at how hard he works to keep it open, running and nice. But the restaurant pulled him out of his life of crime, gave him a legitimate business, a way to stay and live a real life instead of continuing to run. He knows these are among the factors that brought Nathan back on his side-

He grimaces, because he’d been doing well. He’d made it almost ten minutes this time. This is getting pathetic.

_I was that fucking close_ , Duke thinks for the millionth time. _I was that fucking close and I fucked it up._

It’s been nine days since Audrey dropped the bomb. Nathan had walked away from the Rouge with love letters in his pocket and a cat they could have co-owned in his arms. Duke had let himself coddle a tiny fragile hope that Nathan would be able to handle this, could react in some way besides dipping into old avoidance. That hope hasn’t panned out.

Nine days. They’ve worked near each other on a couple of Troubles, but Nathan barely looked at him, and they haven’t interacted otherwise. There have been stretches of several years when they haven’t seen each other, but Duke’s still been slowly going crazy.

Duke sighs and wipes off his specials board- one of which is sea salt caramel pancakes, because yes, it turns out he actually is that desperate. (He’s also contemplating strawberry lemon poppy seed pancakes for one of tomorrow’s specials, and in fact has an entire recipe box for occasions such as this.) When it’s clean, he turns to find a rag to wipe off the bar and freezes.

Nathan is standing at the door, hand poised to knock but hesitating.

Duke beams even as the discomfort sweeps over him. He saunters over and unlocks the door. “We’re actually closed, you know, but come on in.”

When most people are this uncomfortable, they fidget. Nathan, since his Trouble kicked in, has done the opposite- gone incredibly still like he’s trying not to be seen. Duke sighs and waves him inside, shutting the door and going to wipe down the counter.

Nathan just stands there, foiling Duke’s attempts to wait him out.

Eventually (probably about forty-five seconds later, if he’s being honest with himself) Duke sighs and throws the rag down.

“What do you want, Nate?”

Nathan shrugs minutely and stands there doing nothing for another few seconds before saying, “It’s maddening.”

There’s a snippy retort pushing its way up Duke’s throat, but he knows it won’t help and swallows it down. “What’s that?”

“I think Freckles remembers me,” Nathan shares. “And I have the letters, and Parker’s said a couple of things, but I can’t remember. I lived another life and it feels like I should remember at least a little- a flash, déjà vu, something…”

Duke doesn’t say anything, can’t say anything. This hasn’t been his thought process at all, because he can so achingly imagine it all in too-vivid detail, but he’s somewhat reassured that Nathan’s been obsessing over this as much as he has.

“Parker swears I’m gonna give myself nosebleeds,” Nathan continues quietly. “And sometimes I think I get close- an impression, maybe, of how things were, but then it all snaps back.”

Duke’s quiet for a moment longer, and then takes a risk. “Maybe you’re not remembering what happened,” he suggests, in a falsely casual voice he knows Nathan can see right through, “maybe you’re imagining how it could be.”

Nathan immediately reverts to his imitation of a wall, but he doesn’t flee, which Duke counts as a win.

Eventually Nathan reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a few pieces of paper, folded into quarters. “The letters,” he says. “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”

Duke hesitates, because he in no way wants to show Nathan those letters. There’s vulnerability in there, and certain details Nathan probably can’t handle at the moment, but hell. If it gets Nathan even a fraction closer to accepting this and either putting it behind him (or, and Duke can barely handle the surge of hope at the thought, ahead of him) than he can hardly refuse.

Duke slowly reaches into his own back pocket and pulls out two letters, turning them over in his fingers. They’re heavily creased, now, and he has them nearly memorized from how often he’s read them. One of the photos from the packet from himself has taken up heartbreaking residence in his wallet, and the others are stashed in his nightstand.

He passes the letters to Nathan wordlessly, and takes the letters Nathan’s offering.

Nathan sits at the bar and unfolds them. Duke waits, wanting to watch him read, try to gauge the reaction, before reading Nathan’s letters.

Nathan starts reading the thinner letter, the one Duke knows to be from the other Nathan. He watches Nathan read it, slowly, trying to gain some sense of the version of himself that wrote it.

* * *

 

_Duke,_

_I’m not really sure how to go about this. Mostly because I’m not sure who you are here- you’re not the asshole I have to hide all vulnerability from but you’re also not the Duke I’ve gotten used to. I’m not sure exactly how I’m supposed to be treating you, here. Honestly, I guess, but I’m not really a fan of open communication. Probably not a surprise._

_Guess the first thing you should know is that I love you. I don’t say that enough, even here, but I’m pretty sure everyone knows anyway. I’m pretty sure your version of me loves you too, because the effects of this Trouble only seem to go back a few years, and I’ve loved you for longer than that. I’m not sure how long, exactly. I never had a grand epiphany on the matter. It was always just a reluctant truth that existed in my life, that I tried to deny but couldn’t. This Trouble didn’t change everything, and it couldn’t have changed the fact that you are annoyingly constant. It’s not voluntary, or convenient, and I understand why I tried so long to deny it, but it is the truth._

_I don’t really understand what’s going on in the world you know. I’ve talked to Audrey, but she’s being vague. One thing she said, though, is that she thinks I’m only dating her now out of sheer stubbornness. You’re familiar enough with my stubbornness that you can probably see why that’s worrying. I’m actually writing this while stuck writing the letter to me, because that one’s way harder. I’m the one who’s a problem right now._

_I guess the point of the letter is this: don’t give up on me. Please don’t give up. I love you. This is worth fighting for. Just try._

_-Nathan_

* * *

 

Duke watches as Nathan reads it twice, hovering over this letter in his handwriting but someone else’s life, before putting it aside and picking up the other, much thicker letter.

Duke’s breath catches in his throat as Nathan begins to read it, because he knows what it says, he knows what kinds of things Nathan’s seeing, and it could all go so horribly wrong.

* * *

 

_Dear alternate reality self,_

_This is fucking weird. I guess because you don’t feel like me. You feel like a stranger. A sad, pitiable stranger who isn’t living his life nearly as well as I am. Alas, you are me. The real me, even, I guess, seeing as how in a couple hours I’m going to be nothing but Audrey’s memory. And, of course, this letter. So, down to business._

_See, in my timeline, we were affected by a Trouble that changed our reality. What it did not do was change me, which is how I know for a damn fact that you love him too. Do you remember standing on that Thai beach with Evi after the resort heist? Beautiful woman all over me, a hefty stack in my pocket, but it was Nathan’s birthday and I couldn’t stop thinking about it. He’d’ve been so bitchy about the heist, he’s always loved this kind of food, he’d love this sunset. I was all mad at myself, being twelve thousand miles away from Haven and still thinking of Nathan. I remember thinking, ‘I guess I’ll keep going.’ But how much farther would it take? How much farther could I even get? It had been years, a lot of years. I was married. But I figured it out, on that beach, that none of that would help. That I was never gonna get away. Do you remember that? Did that happen to you?_

_Took me another year to do anything about it, and only then, the whole Evi thing going belly up was what finally got me back into Haven. According to Audrey, Nathan’s Trouble kicked in when we had a fight regarding his being a cop and my being a felon (specifically, something regarding a fishing trip and the Coast Guard). I think I remember that fight (though it’s kind of difficult, seeing as how back then Nate and I had fistfights regarding our respective careers at least every other month. Also, we stopped doing that when we started dating rather than just the angry fucking. We’re not a sad PSA or anything.) So we were still stuck in love-hate limbo when Audrey showed up. She, naturally, sniffed that out in about four days. It took her a little while to talk Nate into making a move- and it had to be him. Still has to, probably. He did, eventually. He asked me out. He was all awkward about it, and it was adorable, and I’m really annoyed that soon it will have never happened._

_That was about a year and a half ago. Things have been pretty good. We live together, on the Cape Rouge, and we talk about Future and Progress and all sorts of vaguely terrifying yet wonderful stuff and okay fine, I’ll stop being coy, you’ve definitely noticed the ring in the envelope by now. Yes, it’s precisely what you think it is. It’s been sitting in my sock drawer for two months. I’m a coward. And I’m pissed that I waited too long, that I timed out and now I have to give the damn thing to you. Frankly, I don’t trust you. You don’t seem to be doing things well. But here you go! I hope someday you’ll get to where I am. Advice: be less spineless about it. Haven is unpredictable._

_So, yes, obviously we’re pretty serious. And we work, we really do. I’m way less shitty when Nathan’s around to keep an eye on me, and he’s way more relaxed. We make each other a lot better, and it worries me deeply that the version of me reading this letter doesn’t have that. I hope you don’t suck. Life is really better when you don’t suck._

_Okay, so none of this has been terribly helpful so far. But here’s what you need to know. Generally speaking, I’m ludicrously happy. Audrey, who’s seen both timelines, liked mine way better and seems to be of the opinion that basically everything was better over here until the Trouble-bomb Troubles messed shit up. She’s commented on Nathan more than me (worrying, that) but seems to think that we’re both doing much better here. So my situation is probably worth pursuing, if you want to be happy, if you want Nate to be happy. Problem: Nathan is going to be the issue. If things are similar there, you’re going to be more gung-ho for a relationship than he is. (This will be true until he jumps in, at which point he will be all-in and you’ll be the hesitant idiot, because I’m always waiting for the next one to leave and Nathan wants everything to be for keeps. Look out for this, it will cause problems.) But keep at it. Don’t walk away. I know you love him, because I can’t imagine myself existing any other way. And if you manage to pull it off again, for fuck’s sake, don’t be such a wimp. He’s good for you. Jump in with both feet._

_-Former-reality self_

* * *

 

Nathan reads this one twice as well, then looks up at Duke with wide eyes. “Okay,” he says, voice cracking. Duke doesn’t know if his reaction is toward the letters or the sappiness or the less than charming details about Duke’s psyche or the mention of the fucking ring, but there seems to be something in the realm of acceptance in Nathan’s complicated expression, so Duke’ll take it.

He’s not sure why his alternate even bothered send the ring, padded in the thick manila envelope- there’s nothing he can do with it, after all, and he doesn’t dare contemplate the possibility that there ever will be. But now he can’t sell it, can’t get rid of it, so it’s back in his sock drawer as a memento of a life he never lived.

Nathan refolds the letters carefully, watching the minute motions of his hands carefully to get the creases back where they were. He looks up and gestures at the letters in Duke’s hands. “You can,” he offers. “If you want.”

Duke nods, and unfolds them with shaking hands, pulling out the one with his own handwriting first.

* * *

 

_Dear alternate reality Nathan,_

_This fucking sucks. I hate this. I can’t believe I have to do this. But I do, so here we go._

_Christ, I love you. I do. You mean everything to me, you bastard. I hate that I might lose you to this damn reality thing. Fuck._

_All right, here we go. Since we have to do this. So! I’m Duke, from an alternate reality in which your Trouble didn’t kick back in until last night. I hear that in your reality, the activation was my fault. Sorry, I guess. I’m kind of an ass sometimes, but I never intended to do something like that to you. But that didn’t happen here. Instead, we were continuing to have angry sex when Audrey turned up, sniffed it out, and harassed you into asking me out. I accepted. We’ve been together ever since. It’s been about a year and a half._

_It’s been good. Overall, it works. We have our issues, of course- you commit all-or-nothing and I commit in small degrees and that’s an ongoing thing. Claire’s constantly haranguing us about our bad habit of having ‘dumb proxy fights’ when we have an issue instead of arguing about the issue like adults. We’re not a fairy tale or anything. But I help you relax and get out of your head and you help me not be such a selfish ass all the time. We make each other better. We’re a good team. It’s always been you, and things have gotten a lot better since we stopped fighting that and went with it._

_I don’t want to lose that, and I don’t want to lose you._

_I’ve loved you for longer than I can even remember, and I’ve tried so hard to get away from it, but damn do I ever not want to succeed. This Trouble didn’t touch me. It didn’t change me. So don’t tell yourself that the version of me doesn’t love you, because that is not possible. And I’m guessing that some part of you knows that, even if you’re doing your stubborn-ass thing (please stop that, by the way). Stop fighting this- I promise it works. You don’t have to be afraid of us._

_Also, feel free to force me not to be an ass. Turns out that actually makes life better. Go figure._

_God, Nate. I hate the possibility that I’m going to lose you. You’re just about all that matters to me. I’m trying to trust that we’re not actually dumb enough to never figure out that we belong together, but we’re kind of idiots. Just… please._

_Love, former-reality Duke_

* * *

 

The words ‘you mean everything to me, you bastard’ get somewhat stuck in Duke’s head as he puts the letter aside, but the letter feels too much like his own, and he suddenly hates this alter-ego for getting everything Duke’s learned to live without.

So fucking close, and he missed it.

He lifts the second letter.

* * *

 

_Other Nathan,_

_You need to be with Duke. I promise you do. I don’t understand how you can even doubt this, except that you’ve never wanted to believe it and you’re annoyingly good at self-delusion. This isn’t the first time that particular flaw has come back to bite me in the ass, but it’s probably the weirdest._

_Hasn’t it always been Duke? When you were five and he was the first friend you ever had. When he got you to the hospital while everyone else was too busy screaming, when you were seven and he held your hand while you stared at the bone poking through your skin. When you were eight and he walked away, and that was worse than the numbness by tenfold. When you were nine and figuring out that the Troubles took far more from him than you, and had no idea how to bridge the gap. When you were thirteen and thought you were gay for over a month because of him. When you were sixteen and finally, finally making strides toward him again- knowing damn well that it was stupid, and not caring about the consequences. When you were eighteen and getting drunk together at graduation as the only two without family at the ceremony. When you were twenty and kissing him- plenty experienced enough to know better, but really, what the fuck else were you going to do? When you were thirty-two and he was breaking your heart and thirty-five and he was putting it back together. And all of the moments in between._

_You know it’s always been Duke. You’ve been trapped in his orbit longer than you can remember, and you’re really still telling yourself that you can get out? That you want to? For fuck’s sake, why? Do you not believe it can go anywhere? It can. It has. It’s great. Do you not believe he loves you? He does. He’s sort of a moron about it sometimes, but then again, I probably shouldn’t talk. He loves you absolutely. Do you believe that anything with Duke will end badly? By now you have to know that isn’t true. What are you doing?_

_I know you’re dating Audrey. Firstly, what? To me, Audrey is my perky police partner who I love and adore, but have never once thought of like that. We play stupid drinking games on stakeouts, she asks me personal questions about my sex life without an ounce of shame, she mocks my choice in hobbies and I mock her lack of them. We’re friends. Close friends, but not like that. Not quite siblings, because sisters rarely harass brothers for sex tapes, but a lot closer to family than lovers. How did this even happen? Also, secondly, according to her, the relationship sucks and is falling apart, mostly held together by your romantic ideals and stubbornness. Stop it. You’re not helping anything, and you’re completely fucking missing the point._

_You love Duke. Maybe you’ve locked away the part that knows it, but that won’t work, because you love him with all of you and even you can’t lock it all up. Duke loves you. It’ll all work out fine if you just stop being an ass and do it already._

_Good luck._

_-Nathan_

* * *

 

There’s enough vulnerability in this letter that Duke’s astounded that Nathan so freely offered it to him.

_So close. So fucking close._

Duke wonders how much of this letter is accurate, to what extent it’s colored by a life this version of Nathan didn’t live. He wonders if Nathan really felt that way about him the entire time, before the Trouble altered things.

Duke slides Nathan’s letters back across the bar and asks, “Did that help?” He’s impressed by how smooth his voice is.

“I’m not sure,” Nathan replies quietly, passing Duke’s own letters back. Duke takes them, refolds them carefully, and slides them back in his pocket.

Nathan’s response is predictable, as generally the absolute last person to know how Nathan feels about any given situation is Nathan (with Duke residing elatedly at the top of the list), but Duke doesn’t dare make a guess this time and has to push back his frustration.

“Okay,” Duke says instead, slowly. He’s still afraid Nathan will make like the old days and high-tail it. “Now what?”

“I don’t know,” Nathan says, and Duke sighs. Nathan continues, slowly, “I can’t trust it anymore.”

Duke starts, because that’s coming out of left field, isn’t it? Haven’t they finally resolved the trust issues? Hasn’t he done enough, yet?

Apparently so, because Nathan sees the expression and hastily corrects, “Not you. I trust you.”

“Great. So what can’t you trust anymore?” Duke asks. Nathan snorts softly and waves a hand minutely. “That… did not help.”

“I was really sure about Audrey,” Nathan says finally, brusquely. He isn’t making eye contact anymore. “I was willing to bet everything.”

Duke hasn’t the foggiest idea what to do with that.

Nathan glances down, quite conspicuously, at his letters on the bar. “I don’t know what I want,” he says, eventually.

For the first time, Duke lets himself think, _I was so fucking close, and maybe I will be again._ “You need time,” Duke says slowly. “Reorient. Figure your stuff out.”

If Duke’s being a hundred percent honest with himself, he needs the time as badly as Nathan does. Every touch still crawls across his skin like it’s hers; he still doesn’t quite feel safe around anyone; he doesn’t know if trusting is still something he knows how to do. But he’ll relearn, he’ll recover. He always does.

Nathan huffs. “You make it sound like I’m gonna meditate.”

Duke’s never met anyone in his life who needs meditation as badly as Nathan does, but he just smirks. “Whatever works, man.”

Nathan pauses, pursing his lips slightly. “Time. Yeah. But-” he looks up, allowing eye contact. “I don’t want- I… Don’t go away.”

Duke snorts then, because who’s been avoiding who these past several days?

“Yes, I _know_ ,” Nathan sighs, responding to Duke’s unspoken derision. “I can’t- _shit_ , I want you around, all right? I want you with me.”

“Okay,” Duke says, and for once, it’s surprisingly easy. “I sorta missed you, this last week.”

Nathan smiles, a small, fragile, genuine thing. “See you tomorrow, then?”

“Yeah,” Duke says, and somehow it comes out like some kind of promise. Nathan starts to leave, and Duke stops him with a “Hey, Nate-” Nathan pauses, turning back around. Duke ignores every rule he’s taught himself and says, “You know how you said you don’t know? Well, I do. So… let me know when you figure it out.”

Nathan pauses a beat and then softly says, “I will,” and it’s a promise if Duke’s ever heard one.

_So close_ , Duke thinks, and it’s not bitter this time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, there it is. That's the end. 
> 
> Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed! Comments are always wildly appreciated :)


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